Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or… Still straitened in their rock—hew… And was Thy Rising only dreamed b… Whose love of Thee for all her si… For here the air is horrid with me…
These are the letters which Endym… To one he loved in secret and apar… And now the brawlers of the auctio… Bargain and bid for each poor blot… Aye! for each separate pulse of pa…
O goat—foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold,
NAY, let us walk from fire unto f… From passionate pain to deadlier d… I am too young to live without des… Too young art thou to waste this s… Asking those idle questions which…
(To Sarah Bernhardt) How vain and dull this common worl… To such a One as thou, who should… At Florence with Mirandola, or wa… Through the cool olives of the Ac…
I MARVEL not Bassanio was so b… To peril all he had upon the lead, Or that proud Aragon bent low his… Or that Morocco’s fiery heart gre… For in that gorgeous dress of beat…
THERE was a time in Europe long… When no man died for freedom anywh… But England’s lion leaping from i… Laid hands on the oppressor! it wa… While England could a great Repub…
IN the lone tent, waiting for vic… She stands with eyes marred by the… Like some wan lily overdrenched wi… The clamorous clang of arms, the e… War’s ruin, and the wreck of chiva…
DEAR Heart I think the young im… When first he takes from out the h… His God imprisoned in the Euchari… And eats the bread, and drinks the… Feels not such awful wonder as I…
To my friend George Fleming autho… 'Mirage’) A year ago I breathed the Italian… And yet, methinks this northern S… These fields made golden with the…
THE corn has turned from grey to… Since first my spirit wandered for… From the drear cities of the north… And to Italia’s mountains fled. And here I set my face towards ho…
Could we dig up this long—buried t… Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is…
I reached the Alps: the soul with… Italia, my Italia, at thy name: And when from out the mountain’s h… And saw the land for which my life… I laughed as one who some great pr…
SEE, I have climbed the mountain… Up to this holy house of God, Where once that Angel—Painter tro… Who saw the heavens opened wide, And throned upon the crescent moon
O well for him who lives at ease With garnered gold in wide domain, Nor heeds the splashing of the rai… The crashing down of forest trees. O well for him who ne’er hath know…
O beautiful star with the crimson… O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the odorous… And light for my love her way, Lest her little feet should stray
ROME! what a scroll of History t… In the first days thy sword republ… Ruled the whole world for many an… Then of thy peoples thou wert crow… Till in thy streets the bearded G…
I STOOD by the unvintageable se… Till the wet waves drenched face a… The long red fires of the dying da… Burned in the west; the wind piped… And to the land the clamorous gull…
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth,
We sat together at one summer’s en… That beautiful mild woman, your cl… And you and I, and talked of poet… I said, ‘A line will take us hour… Yet if it does not seem a moment’s…
A sudden blow: the great wings bea… Above the staggering girl, her thi… By the dark webs, her nape caught… He holds her helpless breast upon… How can those terrified vague fing…
The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window—sill. It rose in a straight blue garment…
My love is in a light attire Among the apple trees, Where the gay winds do most desire To run in companies. There, where the gay winds stay to…
“They made her a grave, too cold a… For a soul so warm and true; And she’s gone to the Lake of the… Where, all night long, by a fire—f… She paddles her white canoe.”
“How sweetly,” said the trembling… Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that tranquil flood— “How sweetly does the moon—beam sm…
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the w…
Turning and turning in the widenin… The falcon cannot hear the falcone… Things fall apart; the centre cann… Mere anarchy is loosed upon the wo… The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, a…
He did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his han… When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved,
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came… —Introibo ad altare Dei. Halted, he peered down the dark wi… —Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fea… Solemnly he came forward and mount…
—You, Cochrane, what city sent fo… —Tarentum, sir. —Very good. Well? —There was a battle, sir. —Very good. Where?