A. Back here, but now, the jobber John Come by, an' cried, "Well done, zing on, I thought as I come down the hill, An' he'rd your zongs a-ring'n sh'ill, Who woudden like to come, an' fling...
The summer warmth has left the sky, The summer songs have died away; And, withered, in the footpaths lie The fallen leaves, but yesterday With ruby and with topaz gay. ...
The dirge is played, the throbbing death-peal rung, The sad-voiced requiem sung; On each white urn where memory dwells The wreath of rustling immortelles Our loving hands have hung,...
At last I put off love, For twice ten years The daysman of my thought, And hope, and doing; Being ashamed thereof, And faint of fears And desolations, wrought In his pursuing, ...
Stravinsky's Firebird, Debussy's La Mer lilting arrangement like a windmill with a little Hottentot of a bird scurrying over leaves like hot coals, nest a pudding arrangement, oven-shaped,...
O fleece, billowing even down the neck! O locks! 0 perfume charged with nonchalance! What ecstasy! To people our dark room With memories that sleep within this mane, I'll shake it like a kerchief in the air!...
Just drifting on together - He and I - As through the balmy weather Of July Drift two thistle-tufts imbedded Each in each - by zephyrs wedded - Touring upward, giddy-headed, For the sky. ...
As the moon sidles up Must she sidle up, As trips the scared moon Away must she trip: "His light had struck me blind Dared I stop'. She sings as the moon sings: "I am I, am I;...
HE. I know a youth who loves a little maid (Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!) Silent is he, for he's modest and afraid (Hey, but he's timid as a youth can be!)
Heap Cassia, sandal-buds and stripes Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes From out her hair: such balsam falls Down sea-side mountain pedestals,...
Hear me but once, while o'er the grave, In which our Love lies cold and dead, I count each flattering hope he gave Of joys now lost and charms now fled.
He wor a poor hard workin lad, An shoo a workin lass, An hard they tew'd throo day to day, For varry little brass. An oft they tawk'd o'th' weddin day, An lang'd for th' happy time,...
Fain would I wish what my heart cannot will: Between it and the fire a veil of ice Deadens the fire, so that I deal in lies; My words and actions are discordant still....