Pilgrim of life! thy hoary head Is bent with age, thine eye Looks downward to the silent dead, Wreck of mortality!-- The friends who flourished in thy day...
"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day, To drooping Age, who crest his way.-- "It is a sunny hour of play, "For which repentance dear doth pay; "Repentance! Repentance!...
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here, And ease from shame, and rest from fear. There's nothing can dismarble now The smoothness of that limpid brow. But is a calm like this, in truth,...
What hast thou done to this dear friend of mine, Thou cold, white, silent Stranger? From my hand Her clasped hand slips to meet the grasp of thine; Here eyes that flamed with love, at thy command...
I was your lover long ago, sweet June, Ere life grew hard; I am your lover still, And follow gladly to the wondrous tune You pipe on golden reeds to vale and hill. I am your lover still - to me you seem...
You that were Half my life ere life was mine; You that on my shape the sign Set of yours; You that my young lips did kiss When your kiss summed up my bliss.... Ah, once more...
The morning of a gladsome day in spring Had scarce its freshness brought to weary men, When, o'er the meadows wet, a boy did sing, And whistled o'er a tune, and carroll'd-it, again,...
When one who has wandered out of the way Which leads to the hills of joy, Whose heart has grown both cold and grey, Though it be but the heart of a boy-- When such a one turns back his feet...
'When I shall be divorced, some ten years hence, From this poor present self which I am now; When youth has done its tedious vain expense Of passions that for ever ebb and flow;...
My life In front of you on the ground Will fall as a broken flower. You will go past, caught by rain, Hurrying into the cosy, warm house. You will forget how under the hot sun...
You will forget me. The years are so tender, They bind up the wounds which we think are so deep; This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor Fades from the skies when the sun sinks to sleep;...
You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire. ...