Yea, she hath looked Truth grimly face to face, And drained unto the lees the proffered cup. This silence is not patience, nor the grace Of recognition, meekly offered up,...
Where is the man who has been tried and found strong and sound? Where is the friend of reason and of knowledge? I see only sceptics and weaklings. I see only prisoners in the durance of the senses,...
Long in the lap of childhood didst thou sleep, Think how thy youth like chaff did disappear; Shall life's sweet Spring forever last? Look up, Old age approaches ominously near....
Small, shapeless drifts of cloud Sail slowly northward in the soft-hued sky, With blur half-tints and rolling summits bright, By the late sun caressed; slight hazes shroud...
Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death, And let the sun shine on him as it did How many thousand years agone! Beneath This worm-defying, uncorrupted lid, Behold the young, heroic face, round-eyed,...
Come closer, kind, white, long-familiar friend, Embrace me, fold me to thy broad, soft breast. Life has grown strange and cold, but thou dost bend Mild eyes of blessing wooing to my rest....
Ten o'clock: the broken moon Hangs not yet a half hour high, Yellow as a shield of brass, In the dewy air of June, Poised between the vaulted sky And the ocean's liquid glass.
But yesterday the earth drank like a child With eager thirst the autumn rain. Or like a wistful bride who waits the hour Of love's mysterious bliss and pain. And now the Spring is here with yearning eyes;...
From Joshua Ibn Vives of Allorqui to his Former Master, Solomon Levi-Paul, de Santa-Maria, Bishop of Cartegna Chancellor of Castile, and Privy Councillor to King Henry III. of Spain.
On a background of pale gold I would trace with quaint design, Penciled fine, Brilliant-colored, Moorish scenes, Mosques and crescents, pages, queens, Line on line, That the prose-world of to-day...
Look! the round-cheeked moon floats high, In the glowing August sky, Quenching all her neighbor stars, Save the steady flame of Mars. White as silver shines the sea, Far-off sails like phantoms be,...
Air and sky are swathed in gold Fold on fold, Light glows through the trees like wine. Earth, sun-quickened, swoons for bliss 'Neath his kiss, Breathless in a trance divine.
I know how well Love shoots, how swift his flight, How now by force and now by stealth he steals, How he will threaten now, anon will smite, And how unstable are his chariot wheels....
So, Calchas, on the sacred Palatine, Thou thought of Mopsus, and o'er wastes of sea A flower brought your message. I divine (Through my deep art) the kindly mockery...
The noble Column, the green Laurel-tree Are fall'n, that shaded once my weary mind. Now I have lost what I shall never find, From North to South, from Red to Indian Sea....