The moving sun-shapes on the spray, The sparkles where the brook was flowing, Pink faces, plightings, moonlit May, These were the things we wished would stay; But they were going.
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, ...
She sought the Studios, beckoning to her side An arch-designer, for she planned to build. He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled In every intervolve of high and wide -...
'Twas a death-bed summons, and forth I went By the way of the Western Wall, so drear On that winter night, and sought a gate - The home, by Fate, Of one I had long held dear. ...
At the shiver of morning, a little before the false dawn, The moon was at the window-square, Deedily brooding in deformed decay - The curve hewn off her cheek as by an adze;...
If it's ever spring again, Spring again, I shall go where went I when Down the moor-cock splashed, and hen, Seeing me not, amid their flounder, Standing with my arm around her;...
The years have gathered grayly Since I danced upon this leaze With one who kindled gaily Love's fitful ecstasies! But despite the term as teacher, I remain what I was then In each essential feature...
"You look like a widower," she said Through the folding-doors with a laugh from the bed, As he sat by the fire in the outer room, Reading late on a night of gloom,...
Here's the mould of a musical bird long passed from light, Which over the earth before man came was winging; There's a contralto voice I heard last night,...
On a morning sick as the day of doom With the drizzling gray Of an English May, There were few in the railway waiting-room. About its walls were framed and varnished...
That whisper takes the voice Of a Spirit's compassionings Close, but invisible, And throws me under a spell At the kindling vision it brings; And for a moment I rejoice,...
Pale beech and pine-tree blue, Set in one clay, Bough to bough cannot you Bide out your day? When the rains skim and skip, Why mar sweet comradeship,...
"Would that I'd not drawn breath here!" some one said, "To stalk upon this stage of evil deeds, Where purposelessly month by month proceeds A play so sorely shaped and blood-bespread." ...