Thus says the prophet of the Turk, Good Mussulman, abstain from pork; There is a part in every swine No friend of follower of mine May taste, whate'er his inclination, On pain of excommunication....
I go through wet spring woods alone, Through sweet green woods with heart of stone, My weary foot upon the grass Falls heavy as I pass. The cuckoo from the distance cries,...
Now thou art gone, tho' not gone far, It seems that there are worlds between us; Shine here again, thou wandering star! Earth's planet! and return with Venus.
Within a budding grove, In April's ear sang every bird his best, But not a song to pleasure my unrest, Or touch the tears unwept of bitter love; Some spake, methought, with pity, some as if in jest....
A lover whom duty called over the wave, With himself communed: "Will my love be true If left to herself? Had I better not sue Some friend to watch over her, good and grave?...
If this importunate heart trouble your peace With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease; Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say,...
Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil.... How merry Those little devils are! They've stolen the pitchfork From Bel, there, as he slept... Look! -- oh look, look!...
Pale brows, still hands and dim hair, I had a beautiful friend And dreamed that the old despair Would end in love in the end: She looked in my heart one day And saw your image was there;...
When I had guineas many a one Nought else I lack'd 'neath the sun, I had two eyes the bluest seen, A perfect shape, a gracious mien, I had a voice might charm the bale...
Though you are in your shining days, Voices among the crowd And new friends busy with your praise, Be not unkind or proud, But think about old friends the most: Time's bitter flood will rise,...
Now the wheat is in the ear, and the rose is on the brere, And bluecaps so divinely blue, with poppies of bright scarlet hue, Maiden, at the close o' eve, wilt thou, dear, thy cottage leave,...
Eyes of grey, a sodden quay, Driving rain and falling tears, As the steamer wears to sea In a parting storm of cheers. Sing, for Faith and Hope are high, None so true as you and I,...
O women, kneeling by your altar-rails long hence, When songs I wove for my beloved hide the prayer, And smoke from this dead heart drifts through the violet air...
'Twas in that memorable year France threaten'd to put off in Flat-bottom'd boats, intending each To be a British coffin, To make sad widows of our wives, And every babe an orphan: - ...