Modern Love XVIII: Here Jack and Tom
Here Jack and Tom are paired with Moll and Meg. Curved open to the river-reach is seen A country merry-making on the green. Fair space for signal shakings of the leg. That little screwy
Modern Love XX: I Am Not of Those
I am not of those miserable males Who sniff at vice and, daring not to snap, Do therefore hope for heaven. I take the hap Of all my deeds. The wind that fills my
Modern Love XVI: In Our Old Shipwrecked Days
In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the red chasm grow Among the clicking coals. Our library-bower That eve was left to
Modern Love IV: All Other Joys of Life
All other joys of life he strove to warm, And magnify, and catch them to his lip: But they had suffered shipwreck with the ship, And gazed upon him sallow from the storm. Or
Modern Love XII: Not Solely That the Future
Not solely that the Future she destroys, And the fair life which in the distance lies For all men, beckoning out from dim rich skies: Nor that the passing hour’s supporting joys Have lost
Modern Love XXII: What May the Woman
What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. ‘Tis something to be told, or hidden: which? I get a glimpse of hell in this mild guess. She
Modern Love XXV: You Like Not That French Novel
You like not that French novel? Tell me why. You think it quite unnatural. Let us see. The actors are, it seems, the usual three: Husband, and wife, and lover. She but fie! In
Modern Love XVII: At Dinner She Is Hostess
At dinner, she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The Topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost. With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball:
Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept
By this he knew she wept with waking eyes: That, at his hand’s light quiver by her head, The strange low sobs that shook their common bed Were called into her with a sharp
Modern Love XLV: It Is the Season
It is the season of the sweet wild rose, My Lady’s emblem in the heart of me! So golden-crownèd shines she gloriously, And with that softest dream of blood she glows: Mild as an
Modern Love VI: It Chanced His Lips Did Meet
It chanced his lips did meet her forehead cool. She had no blush, but slanted down her eye. Shamed nature, then, confesses love can die: And most she punishes the tender fool Who will
Love's Grave
MARK where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like, Its skeleton shadow on the broad-back’d wave! Here is a fitting spot to dig Love’s grave; Here where the ponderous breakers plunge and strike, And dart their
Modern Love XLIX: He Found Her
He found her by the ocean’s moaning verge, Nor any wicked change in her discerned; And she believed his old love had returned, Which was her exultation, and her scourge. She took his hand,
Modern Love X: But Where Began the Change
But where began the change; and what’s my crime? The wretch condemned, who has not been arraigned, Chafes at his sentence. Shall I, unsustained, Drag on Love’s nerveless body thro’ all time? I must