Recollection

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1. On Recollection MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine, Your vent’rous Afric in her great design. Mneme, immortal pow’r, I trace thy spring: Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing: The acts of long departed years, by thee Recover’d, in due order rang’d we see: Thy pow’r the long-forgotten calls from night, That sweetly plays before the […]...
2. Recollection of the Arabian Nights WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with me, The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn, Adown the Tigris I was borne, By Bagdat’s shrines of fretted gold, High-walled gardens green and old; True Mussulman was I and […]...
3. Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away To live a second life on second head; […]...
4. Sonnet LXVII Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before the bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head; […]...
5. Endurance HE bent above: so still her breath What air she breathed he could not say, Whether in worlds of life or death: So softly ebbed away, away, The life that had been light to him, So fled her beauty leaving dim The emptying chambers of his heart Thrilled only by the pang and smart, The […]...
6. The Poets O ye dead Poets, who are living still Immortal in your verse, though life be fled, And ye, O living Poets, who are dead Though ye are living, if neglect can kill, Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill, With drops of anguish falling fast and red From the sharp crown of thorns […]...
7. Babylon THE BLUE dusk ran between the streets: my love was winged within my mind, It left to-day and yesterday and thrice a thousand years behind. To-day was past and dead for me, for from to-day my feet had run Through thrice a thousand years to walk the ways of ancient Babylon. On temple top and […]...
8. Krinken Krinken was a little child, It was summer when he smiled. Oft the hoary sea and grim Stretched its white arms out to him, Calling, “Sun-child, come to me; Let me warm my heart with thee!” But the child heard not the sea, Calling, yearning evermore For the summer on the shore. Krinken on the […]...
9. Goddess In The Wood, The In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood, Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream; […]...
10. The Garden of God WITHIN the iron cities One walked unknown for years, In his heart the pity of pities That grew for human tears. When love and grief were ended The flower of pity grew: By unseen hands ‘t was tended And fed with holy dew. Though in his heart were barred in The blooms of beauty blown, […]...
11. Star Teachers EVEN as a bird sprays many-coloured fires, The plumes of paradise, the dying light Rays through the fevered air in misty spires That vanish in the heights. These myriad eyes that look on me are mine; Wandering beneath them I have found again The ancient ample moment, the divine, The God-root within men. For this, […]...
12. Blue Squills How many million Aprils came Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be, A bed of squills, how blue! And many a dancing April When life is done with me, Will lift the blue flame of the flower And the white flame of the tree. Oh burn me with your beauty, then, […]...
13. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 39. Old warder of these buried bones Old warder of these buried bones, And answering now my random stroke With fruitful cloud and living smoke, Dark yew, that graspest at the stones And dippest toward the dreamless head, To thee too comes the golden hour When flower is feeling after flower; But Sorrow fixt upon the dead, And darkening the dark graves […]...
14. TO A BROWN BEGGAR-MAID WHITE maiden with the russet hair, Whose garments, through their holes, declare That poverty is part of you, And beauty too. To me, a sorry bard and mean, Your youthful beauty, frail and lean, With summer freckles here and there, Is sweet and fair. Your sabots tread the roads of chance, And not one queen […]...
15. In Umbria Once upon a time I was sitting outside the cafe Watching twilight in Umbria when a girl came Out of the bakery with the bread her mother wanted. She did not know what to do. Already bewildered By being thirteen and just that summer a woman, She now had to walk past the American. But […]...
16. Soldier, Maiden, and Flower “Sweetheart, take this,” a soldier said, “And bid me brave good-by; It may befall we ne’er shall wed, But love can never die. Be steadfast in thy troth to me, And then, whate’er my lot, ‘My soul to God, my heart to thee,’ Sweetheart, forget me not!” The maiden took the tiny flower And nursed […]...
17. Finis An idle rhyme of the summer time, Sweet, and solemn, and tender; Fair with the haze of the moon’s pale rays, Bright with the sunset’s splendour. Summer and beauty over the lands – Careless hours of pleasure; A meeting of eyes and a touching of hands – A change in the floating measure. A deeper […]...
18. The Heroes BY many a dream of God and man my thoughts in shining flocks were led: But as I went through Patrick Street the hopes and prophecies were dead. The hopes and prophecies were dead: they could not blossom where the feet Walked amid rottenness, or where the brawling shouters stamped the street. Where was the […]...
19. Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slandered with a bastard shame. For since each hand hath put on nature’s power, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face, Sweet beauty hath no name no […]...
20. Remembrance THERE were many burning hours on the heartsweet tide, And we passed away from ourselves, forgetting all The immortal moods that faded, the god who died, Hastening away to the King on a distant call. There were ruby dews were shed when the heart was riven, And passionate pleading and prayers to the dead we […]...
21. Krishna I PAUSED beside the cabin door and saw the King of Kings at play, Tumbled upon the grass I spied the little heavenly runaway. The mother laughed upon the child made gay by its ecstatic morn, And yet the sages spake of It as of the Ancient and Unborn. I heard the passion breathed amid […]...
22. Roundel She’s passing fair; but so demure is she, So quiet is her gown, so smooth her hair, That few there are who note her and agree She’s passing fair. Yet when was ever beauty held more rare Than simple heart and maiden modesty? What fostered charms with virtue could compare? Alas, no lover ever stops […]...
23. Two valentines I. TO MISTRESS BARBARA There were three cavaliers, all handsome and true, On Valentine’s day came a maiden to woo, And quoth to your mother: “Good-morrow, my dear, We came with some songs for your daughter to hear!” Your mother replied: “I’ll be pleased to convey To my daughter what things you may sing or […]...
24. The Blood-Red Fourragere What was the blackest sight to me Of all that campaign? A naked woman tied to a tree With jagged holes where her breasts should be, Rotting there in the rain. On we pressed to the battle fray, Dogged and dour and spent. Sudden I heard my Captain say: “Voilà! Kultur has passed this way, […]...
25. Magic OUT of the dusky chamber of the brain Flows the imperial will through dream on dream: The fires of life around it tempt and gleam; The lights of earth behind it fade and wane. Passed beyond beauty tempting dream on dream, The pure will seeks the heart-hold of the light: Sounds the deep OM, the […]...
26. An Old Man's Thought of School AN old man’s thought of School; An old man, gathering youthful memories and blooms, that youth itself cannot. Now only do I know you! O fair auroral skies! O morning dew upon the grass! And these I see-these sparkling eyes, These stores of mystic meaning-these young lives, Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships-immortal ships! […]...
27. The Complaint of Lisa There is no woman living who draws breath So sad as I, though all things sadden her. There is not one upon life’s weariest way Who is weary as I am weary of all but death. Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower All day with all his whole soul toward the sun; While […]...
28. Wind and Window Flower LOVERS, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil Was melted down at noon, And the cagèd yellow bird Hung over her in tune, He marked her through the pane, He could not help but mark, And only passed […]...
29. To O. E. A Your voice is the color of a robin’s breast, And there’s a sweet sob in it like rain still rain in the night. Among the leaves of the trumpet-tree, close to his nest, The pea-dove sings, and each note thrills me with strange delight Like the words, wet with music, that well from your trembling […]...
30. There came a Wind like a Bugle There came a wind like a bugle It quivered through the GRASS, And a green chill upon the heat So ominous did pass We barred the windows and the doors As from an emerald GHOST The doom’s electric moccasin That very instant passed. On a strange mob of panting trees, And fences fled away, and […]...
31. Sonnet II When forty winters shall beseige thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes, […]...
32. The Great Breath ITS edges foamed with amethyst and rose, Withers once more the old blue flower of day: There where the ether like a diamond glows Its petals fade away. A shadowy tumult stirs the dusky air; Sparkle the delicate dews, the distant snows; The great deep thrills, for through it everywhere The breath of Beauty blows. […]...
33. A Cry Oh, there are eyes that he can see, And hands to make his hands rejoice, But to my lover I must be Only a voice. Oh, there are breasts to bear his head, And lips whereon his lips can lie, But I must be till I am dead Only a cry....
34. Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now, Will be a tattered weed of small worth held. Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say within thine own deep sunken […]...
35. Sonnet CXXVII In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slander’d with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on nature’s power, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrow’d face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no […]...
36. Sonnet II: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes, […]...
37. Dark Glasses Sweet maiden, why disguise The beauty of your eyes With glasses black? Although I’m well aware That you are more than fair, Allure you lack. For as I stare at you I ask if brown or blue Your optics are? But though I cannot see, I’m sure that each must be Bright as a star. […]...
38. IN THE PICTURE GALLERY WITH palette laden She sat, as I passed her, A dainty maiden Before an Old Master. What mountain-top is She bent upon? Ah, She neatly copies Murillo’s Madonna. But rapt and brimming The eyes’ full chalice says The heart builds dreaming Its fairy-palaces. * * * The eighteenth year rolled By, ere returning, I greeted […]...
39. City Dead-House, The BY the City Dead-House, by the gate, As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor, I curious pause-for lo! an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute brought; Her corpse they deposit unclaim’d-it lies on the damp brick pavement; The divine woman, her body-I see the Body-I look on it alone, That house once full […]...
40. Ode To The Only Girl I’ve seen you many times in many places Theater, bus, train, or on the street; Smiling in spring rain, in winter sleet, Eyes of any hue in myriad faces; Midnight black, all shades of brown your hair, Long, short, bronze or honey-fair. Instantly have I loved, have never spoken; Slowly a truck passed, a light […]...