Alas! he's cold! Cold as the marble which his fingers wrought - Cold, but not dead; for each embodied thought Of his, which he from the Ideal brought To live in stone, Assures him immortality of fame....
Golden-hair'd Ally whose name is one with mine, Crazy with laughter and babble and earth's new wine, Now that the flower of a year and a half is thine, O little blossom, O mine, and mine of mine,...
All ’round us sand. A chain of barracks, Surrounded on all sides by barbed wire. We’re just like beetles delving in our dunghills. This is our lodging. This is where we’re mired....
Dear little one with eyes so blue, And silken ringlets of flaxen hair! Oh, may life have in store for you Something better than anguish and care! Oh, may thy footsteps guided be...
E ach wish, my fairest child, I pen, F or thee I write with earnest heart; F or who shall say, that ere, again, I shall behold thee; when we part E 'en now the time is near, I start. ...
Come with me, little maid, Nay, shrink not, thus afraid I'll harm thee not! Fly not, my love, from me I have a home for thee A fairy grot, Where mortal eye Can rarely pry,...
Into the world you came, and I was dumb, Because "God did it," so the wise ones said; I wonder sometimes "Did you really come?" And "Are you truly . . . DEAD?" ...
I could wish you all who love, That ye could your thoughts remove From your mistresses, and be Wisely wanton, like to me, I could wish you dispossessed Of that fiend that mars your rest,...
Thee for my recitative! Thee in the driving storm, even as now the snow the winter-day declining; Thee in thy panoply, thy measured dual throbbing, and thy beat convulsive;...
I seek no more to bridge the gulf that lies Betwixt our separate ways; For vainly my heart prays, Hope droops her head and dies; I see the sad, tired answer in your eyes. ...
Thou art not dead, O sweet lost melody, Sung beyond memory, When golden to the winds this world of ours Waved wild with boundless flowers; Sung in some past when wildernesses were,-...
Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie! Your impudence protects you sairly: I canna say by ye strunt rarely, Owre gauze and lace; Tho' faith, I fear, ye dine but sparely On sic a place. ...
Madonna, mistress, I would build for thee An altar deep in the sad soul of me; And in the darkest corner of my heart, From mortal hopes and mocking eyes apart, Carve of enamelled blue and gold a shrine...