The circle is broken, one seat is forsaken, One bud from the tree of our friendship is shaken; One heart from among us no longer shall thrill With joy in our gladness, or grief in our ill. ...
My thoughts hold mortal strife; I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries Peace to my soul to bring Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize: But he, grim grinning King,...
1. O world! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more - Oh, never more!
White moons may come, white moons may go, She sleeps where wild wood blossoms blow, Nor knows she of the rosy June, Star-silver flowers o'er her strewn, The pearly paleness of the moon, -...
I. Who hath known the ways of time Or trodden behind his feet? There is no such man among men. For chance overcomes him, or crime Changes; for all things sweet In time wax bitter again....
It was bound fast here you saw him, and wondered to see him, Our fair-haired Donough, and he after being condemned; There was a little white cap on him in place of a hat,...
Low lies the mere beneath the moorside, still And glad of silence: down the wood sweeps clear To the utmost verge where fed with many a rill Low lies the mere. ...
"A land without ruins is a land without memories -- a land without memories is a land without history. A land that wears a laurel crown may be fair to see;...
Sweet, sweet! I rise to greet The sapphire sky The air slips by On either side As up I ride On mounting wing, And sing and sing - Then reach my bliss, The sun's great kiss;...
What lively lad most pleasured me Of all that with me lay? I answer that I gave my soul And loved in misery, But had great pleasure with a lad That I loved bodily. ...
Sick of self-love, Malvolio, like an owl That hoots the sun rerisen where starlight sank, With German garters crossed athwart thy frank Stout Scottish legs, men watched thee snarl and scowl,...
Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,...
Oh, for some cup of consummating might, Filled with life's kind conclusion, lost in night! A wine of darkness, that with death shall cure This sickness called existence! Oh to find...
Not for thyself, but for the sake of Song, Strive to succeed as others have, who gave Their lives unto her; shaping sure and strong Her lovely limbs that made them god and slave. ...
Alas! what boots the long laborious quest Of moral prudence, sought through good and ill; Or pains abstruse, to elevate the will, And lead us on to that transcendent rest...
My lamp is out, my task is done, And up the stair with lingering feet I climb. The staircase clock strikes one. Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!