If the loved one, the well-known one, Should return as he departed, On his lips would ring my kisses, Though the wolf's blood might have dyed them; And a hearty grasp I'd give him,...
The season was the childhood of sweet June, Whose sunny hours from morning until noon Went creeping through the day with silent feet, Each with its load of pleasure; slow yet sweet;...
In each black tile a mimic fire's aglow, And in the hearthlight old mahogany, Ripe with stored sunshine that in Mexico Poured like gold wine into the living tree Summer on summer through a century,...
Some say the world will end in fire; Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate...
If you do not want your heart Burnt at a small flame Like a spitted sheep, Fly the love of women. Fire burns what it touches, But love burns from afar.
If flies be dragons and they may you know. In large desiccated brambles where wasps go involuntary blue-green coelacanths these Devil's Darning Needles wedge in Flying Circuses...
She speaks. Look at the little darlings in the corn! The rye is taller than you, who think yourself So high and mighty: look how the heads are borne Dark and proud on the sky, like a number of knights...
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart)...
And only where the forest fires have sped, Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands, A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head, And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed,...
The darkness steals the forms of all the queens, But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red, Inflamed with binding up the sheaves of dead Hours that were once all glory and all queens. ...
Upon the borderlands of being, Where life draws hardly breath Between the lights and shadows fleeing Fast as a word one saith, Two flowers rejoice our eyesight, seeing The dawns of birth and death....
In calm and cool and silence, once again I find my old accustomed place among My brethren, where, perchance, no human tongue Shall utter words; where never hymn is sung,...
While winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, And bar the doors wi' driving snaw, And hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, And spin a verse or twa o' rhyme,...
When Nature her great master-piece designed, And fram'd her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, She form'd of various parts the various man. ...