Sea-born goddess, let me be By thy son thus graced, and thee, That whene'er I woo, I find Virgins coy, but not unkind. Let me, when I kiss a maid, Taste her lips, so overlaid...
God of the battle, hear our prayer! By the lifted falchion's glare; By the uncouth fane sublime, Marked with many a Runic rhyme; By the "weird sisters"[1] dread, That, posting through the battle red,...
Almighty! what is man? But flesh and blood. Like shadows flee his days, He marks not how they vanish from his gaze, Suddenly, he must die - He droppeth, stunned, into nonentity.
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave A paradise for a sect; the savage, too, From forth the loftiest fashion of his sleep Guesses at heaven; pity these have not...
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,...
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings Hyperion slid into the rustled air, And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd....
Thus in altemate uproar and sad peace, Amazed were those Titans utterly. O leave them, Muse! O leave them to their woes; For thou art weak to sing such tumults dire: A solitary sorrow best befits...
Hypocrisy will serve as well To propagate a church, as zeal; As persecution and promotion Do equally advance devotion: So round white stones will serve, they say, As well as eggs to make hens lay.
And should she die, her grave should be Upon the bare top of a sunny hill, Among the moorlands of her own fair land, Amid a ring of old and moss-grown stones In gorse and heather all embosomed....
Queen of the shadows, Maid and Wife, Twifold in essence, as in life, The lamp of Death, the star of Birth, Half cradled and half mourned by Earth, By Hell half won, half lost! aid me...
I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching, attract all matter? So the Body of me, to all I meet, or know.
I broke the spell that held me long, The dear, dear witchery of song. I said, the poet's idle lore Shall waste my prime of years no more, For Poetry, though heavenly born,...
We've lived for forty years, dear wife, And walked together side by side, And you to-day are just as dear As when you were my bride. I've tried to make life glad for you,...
Perhaps you may a-noticed I been soht o' solemn lately, Haven't been a-lookin' quite so pleasant. Mabbe I have been a little bit too proud and stately; Dat's because I'se lonesome jes' at present....
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me, If thy smiles had left me too; I'd weep when friends deceive me, If thou wert, like them, untrue. But while I've thee before me, With heart so warm and eyes so bright,...