Perplexed Music
EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds A dulcimer of patience in his hand, Whence harmonies, we cannot understand, Of God; will in his worlds, the strain unfolds In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds Fall on
Only a Curl
I. FRIENDS of faces unknown and a land Unvisited over the sea, Who tell me how lonely you stand With a single gold curl in the hand Held up to be looked at by
Sonnet 26 – I lived with visions for my company
I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me. But soon their
A Man's Requirements
I Love me Sweet, with all thou art, Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the lightest part, Love me in full being. II Love me with thine open youth In its frank surrender; With
A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed
IF God compel thee to this destiny, To die alone, with none beside thy bed To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee, Pray
Sonnet 10 – Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright, Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed: And love is fire.
To George Sand: A Desire
THOU large-brained woman and large-hearted man, Self-called George Sand! whose soul, amid the lions Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance And answers roar for roar, as spirits can: I would some mild miraculous thunder
A Child Asleep
How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood’s mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more – Sleeping near the withered nosegay, which he pulled the day before. Nosegays! leave
Irreparableness
I HAVE been in the meadows all the day And gathered there the nosegay that you see Singing within myself as bird or bee When such do field-work on a morn of May. But,
The Meaning Of The Look
I think that look of Christ might seem to say ‘Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone Which I at last must break my heart upon For all God’s charge to his high
De Profundis
I The face, which, duly as the sun, Rose up for me with life begun, To mark all bright hours of the day With hourly love, is dimmed away- And yet my days go
A Sea-Side Walk
We walked beside the sea, After a day which perished silently Of its own glory – like the Princess weird Who, combating the Genius, scorched and seared, Uttered with burning breath, ‘Ho! victory!’ And
Change Upon Change
Five months ago the stream did flow, The lilies bloomed within the sedge, And we were lingering to and fro, Where none will track thee in this snow, Along the stream, beside the hedge.
The Landing Of The Pilgrim Fathers
The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods, against a stormy sky, Their giant branches tost; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and water o’er, When
Sonnet 31 – Thou comest! all is said without a word
Thou comest! all is said without a word. I sit beneath thy looks, as children do In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through Their happy eyelids from an unaverred Yet prodigal inward joy.