#Decadents #English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Seven years have flown like seven… Like seven days of shining weather… Since we, forsaking single ways, Trod earth and faced the skies tog… The old is new, the new is old,
When old wounds bleed again In the silence of the night, And mixt with sweet delight Wells up the stream of pain, Is it less hard to endure
Behold an endless evening over lan… That lapped in vast vales rises up… Into the frozen mountains; evening… With silence, so miraculously clea… That crevices in peaks of distant…
Just as I came Into the empty, westward—facing ro… A sudden gust blew wide The tall window; at once A shock of sudden light, vibrating…
‘Zeus, and ye Gods, that rule in… Is there naught holy, or to your h… Have ye forgotten utterly to love, Or to be kind, in that untroubled… If aught ye cherish, still by that…
I wandered between woods On a grassy down, when still Clouds hung after rain Over hollow and hill; The blossom—time was over,
Fly home, my thoughts, that fretti… In alien words all day, Have longed for the sun’s setting And wished all words away. Fly home to her that knows you,
What is the spirit’s desire, Sprung, springing, singing, Fountain—fresh, rainbowed over wit… The inner dishevelled crystal, sta… To sevenfold changes of fire?
To R. G. R. and H. P. P. Let not the mind, that would have… Too much repose on former joy, Nor in pourtraying past delight Her needed, active power employ!
Come back, sweet yesterdays! Sweet yesterdays, come back! Ah! not in my dreams only Vex me with joy, to wake From dream to truth, twice lonely,
Round apples, burning upon the app… As the evening flush withdraws, Perfect and satiate, earth’s compl… In a stillness nothing flaws, You burn in the branching golden g…
As in a porch of stars we stand; t… Throbs through us, O Love, with i… And mingles us in glory of one bre… One infinite ignorance of Time an… Behold, I am dyed in you, and you…
At Tiro, in her father’s tower, The young Cristina had her bower, Over blue Bolsena’s lake, Where small frolic ripples break Under a grove of sycamore
Beyond the ferry water That fast and silent flowed, She turned, she gazed a moment, Then took her onward road Between the winding willows
A leaf on the gray sand—path Fallen, and fair with rime! A yellow leaf, a scarlet leaf, And a green leaf ere its time. Days rolled in blood, days torn,