When rumour fain would fright my ear With the destruction and decay Of things familiar and dear, And vaunt of a swift-running day That sweeps the fair old Past away;...
A woman! lightly the mysterious word Falls from our lips, lightly as though we knew Its meaning, as we say - a flower, a bird, Or say the moon, the stream, the light, the dew,...
Kisses are long forgotten of this twain, Kisses and words - the sweet small prophecies That run before the Lord of Love: the fain Touch of the hand, and feasting of the eyes,...
Poet of doom, dementia, and death, Of beauty singing in a charnel house, Like the lost soul of a poor moon-mad maid, With too much loving of some lord of hell;...
A little book, this grim November day, Wherein, O tired heart, to creep away, - Come drink this wine and wear this fadeless rose, Nor heed the world, nor what the world shall say. ...
Dear Heart, what thing may symbolise for us A love like ours, what gift, whate'er it be, Hold more significance 'twixt thee and me Than paltry words a truth miraculous; Or the poor signs that in astronomy...
Hail and Farewell, dear Brother of the Pen, Maker of sunshine for the minds of men, Lord of bright cheer and master of our hearts - What plaint is fit when such a friend departs?...
Poet, a truce to your song! Have you heard the heart sing? Like a brook among trees, Like the humming of bees, Like the ripple of wine: Had you heard, would you stay Blowing bubbles so long?...
You ask and I send. It is well, yea! best: A lily hangs dead on its stalk, ah me! A dream hangs dead on a life it blest. Shall it flaunt its death where sad eyes may see In the cold dank wind of our memory?...
Great Omar, here to-night we drain a bowl Unto thy long-since transmigrated soul, Ours all unworthy in thy place to sit, Ours still to read in life's enchanted scroll. ...
The world grows Lilliput, the great men go; If greatness be, it wears no outer sign; No more the signet of the mighty line Stamps the great brow for all the world to know....
One says he is immoral, and points out Warm sin in ruddy specks upon his soul: Bigot, one folly of the man you flout Is more to God than thy lean life is whole.