Troilus And Cressida

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1. Farewell, Ungrateful Traitor! Farewell, ungrateful traitor! Farewell, my perjur’d swain! Let never injur’d woman Believe a man again. The pleasure of possessing Surpasses all expressing, But ’tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain. ‘Tis easy to deceive us In pity of your pain, But when we love, you leave us To rail at you […]...
2. Song From An Evening's Love After the pangs of a desperate lover, When day and night I have sighed all in vain, Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover In her eyes pity, who causes my pain! When with unkindness our love at a stand is, And both have punished ourselves with the pain, Ah, what a pleasure the […]...
3. The Womb Up from the evil day Of wattle and of woad, Along man’s weary way Dark Pain has been the goad. Back from the age of stone, Within his brutish brain, What pleasure he has known Is ease from Pain. Behold in Pain the force That haled Man from the Pit, And set him such a […]...
4. Divine Device Would it be loss or gain To hapless human-kind If we could feel no pain Of body or of mind? Would it be for our good If we were calloused so, And God in mercy should End all our woe? I wonder and I doubt: It is my bright belief We should be poor without […]...
5. Gratitude “Do you give thanks for this? or that?” No, God be thanked I am not grateful In that cold, calculating way, with blessing ranked As one, two, three, and four, that would be hateful. I only know that every day brings good above” My poor deserving; I only feel that, in the road of Life, […]...
6. Innermost One He it is, the innermost one, Who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes And joyfully plays on the chords of my heart In varied cadence of pleasure and pain. He it is who weaves the web of this maya In evanescent hues of […]...
7. To A Husband This is to the crown and blessing of my life, The much loved husband of a happy wife; To him whose constant passion found the art To win a stubborn and ungrateful heart, And to the world by tenderest proof discovers They err, who say that husbands can’t be lovers. With such return of passion, […]...
8. 362. Song-Thou Gloomy December ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Ance mair I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou makes me remember- Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair! Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure, Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, O farewell for […]...
9. Troilus And Criseyde: Book 01 The double 12 sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his aventures fellen Fro wo to wele, and after out of Ioye, My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyte Thise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte! To […]...
10. Troilus And Criseyde: Book 02 Incipit Prohemium Secundi Libri. Out of these blake wawes for to sayle, O wind, O wind, the weder ginneth clere; For in this see the boot hath swich travayle, Of my conning, that unnethe I it stere: This see clepe I the tempestous matere Of desespeyr that Troilus was inne: But now of hope the […]...
11. Troilus And Criseyde: Book 04 Prohemium. But al to litel, weylaway the whyle, Lasteth swich Ioye, y-thonked be Fortune! That semeth trewest, whan she wol bygyle, And can to foles so hir song entune, That she hem hent and blent, traytour comune; And whan a wight is from hir wheel y-throwe, Than laugheth she, and maketh him the mowe. From […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Troilus And Criseyde: Book 03 Incipit prohemium tercii libri. O blisful light of whiche the bemes clere Adorneth al the thridde hevene faire! O sonnes lief, O Ioves doughter dere, Plesaunce of love, O goodly debonaire, In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire! O verray cause of hele and of gladnesse, Y-heried be thy might and thy goodnesse! In hevene […]...
14. Troilus And Criseyde: Book 05 Incipit Liber Quintus. Aprochen gan the fatal destinee That Ioves hath in disposicioun, And to yow, angry Parcas, sustren three, Committeth, to don execucioun; For which Criseyde moste out of the toun, And Troilus shal dwelle forth in pyne Til Lachesis his threed no lenger twyne. The golden-tressed Phebus heighe on-lofte Thryes hadde alle with […]...
15. Euthanasia When Time, or soon or late, shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead, Oblivion! may thy languid wing Wave gently o’er my dying bed! No band of friends or heirs be there, To weep, or wish, the coming blow: No maiden, with dishevelled hair, To feel, or feign, decorous woe. But silent let […]...
16. Joy and Pleasure Now, joy is born of parents poor, And pleasure of our richer kind; Though pleasure’s free, she cannot sing As sweet a song as joy confined. Pleasure’s a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy’s a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature’s light. Joy’s like […]...
17. I Live, I Die, I Burn, I Drown I live, I die, I burn, I drown I endure at once chill and cold Life is at once too soft and too hard I have sore troubles mingled with joys Suddenly I laugh and at the same time cry And in pleasure many a grief endure My happiness wanes and yet it lasts unchanged […]...
18. Reunited Let us begin, dear love, where we left off; Tie up the broken threads of that old dream; And go on happy as before; and seem Lovers again, though all the world may scoff. Let us forget the graves, which lie between Our parting and our meeting, and the tears That rusted out the goldwork […]...
19. A Song From The Italian (LIMBERHAM: OR, THE KIND KEEPER) By a dismal cypress lying, Damon cried, all pale and dying, Kind is death that ends my pain, But cruel she I lov’d in vain. The mossy fountains Murmur my trouble, And hollow mountains My groans redouble: Ev’ry nymph mourns me, Thus while I languish; She only scorns me, Who […]...
20. Love's Usury For every hour that thou wilt spare me now I will allow, Usurious God of Love, twenty to thee, When with my brown my gray hairs equal be; Till then, Love, let my body reign, and let Me travel, sojourn, snatch, plot, have, forget, Resume my last year’s relic: think that yet We’had never met. […]...
21. I shall know why when Time is over I shall know why when Time is over And I have ceased to wonder why Christ will explain each separate anguish In the fair schoolroom of the sky He will tell me what “Peter” promised And I for wonder at his woe I shall forget the drop of Anguish That scalds me now that scalds […]...
22. My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy My dearest Frank, I wish you joy Of Mary’s safety with a Boy, Whose birth has given little pain Compared with that of Mary Jane. May he a growing Blessing prove, And well deserve his Parents’ Love! Endow’d with Art’s and Nature’s Good, Thy Name possessing with thy Blood, In him, in all his ways, […]...
23. Forget Not Yet Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant My great travail so gladly spent Forget not yet. Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye knew, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can, Forget not yet. Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrongs, […]...
24. The Robbers Alas! I see that thrushes three Are ravishing my old fig tree, In whose green shade I smoked my pipe And waited for the fruit to ripe; From green to purple softly swell Then drop into my lap to tell That it is succulently sweet And excellent to eat. And now I see the crimson […]...
25. From This Hour the Pledge is Given From this hour the pledge is given, From this hour my soul is thine: Come what will, from earth of heaven, Weal or woe, thy fate be mine. When the proud and great stood by thee, None dared thy rights to spurn; And if now they’re false and fly thee, Shall I, too, falsely turn? […]...
26. Epilogue UNDER THE BLESSING OF YOUR PSYCHE WINGS Though I have found you llke a snow-drop pale, On sunny days have found you weak and still, Though I have often held your girlish head Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:- Under the blessing of your Psyche-wings I hide to-night like one small broken bird, […]...
27. Sonnet LXXV So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found; Now proud as an enjoyer and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure, Now counting best […]...
28. Stanzas IF thou be in a lonely place, If one hour’s calm be thine, As Evening bends her placid face O’er this sweet day’s decline; If all the earth and all the heaven Now look serene to thee, As o’er them shuts the summer even, One moment­think of me! Pause, in the lane, returning home; ‘Tis […]...
29. Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding Love is enough: it grew up without heeding In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure, And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding, As the morning and evening passed over its treasure. And what do ye say […]...
30. Sonnet 75: So are you to my thoughts as food to life So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found. Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; Now counting best […]...
31. Does It Pay? If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road, Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load, Then life, indeed, does pay. If we can show the troubled heart the gain That lies always in loss, Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain Of bearing life’s hard […]...
32. A Grey Mood As we hurry away to the end, my friend, Of this sad little farce called existence, We are sure that the future will bring one thing, And that is the grave in the distance. And so when our lives run along all wrong, And nothing seems real or certain, We can comfort ourselves with the […]...
33. Evelyn Hope I. Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead! Sit and watch by her side an hour. That is her book-shelf, this her bed; She plucked that piece of geranium-flower, Beginning to die too, in the glass; Little has yet been changed, I think: The shutters are shut, no light may pass Save two long rays thro’ the […]...
34. Sisters Of Mercy Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone. They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can’t go On. And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me This song. Oh I hope you run into them, you who’ve been travelling so Long. Yes you who must […]...
35. Prelude How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I might love you better. Alas, how poor the gifts that lovers give I can but give you of my flesh and strength, I can but give you these few passing days And passionate words that, […]...
36. The Playground of Life XIX One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty And Love is worth a full century of glory Given by the frightened weak to the strong. From that hour comes man’s Truth; and During that century Truth sleeps between The restless arms of disturbing dreams. In that hour the soul sees for herself The Natural Law, […]...
37. The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes Your questioning eyes are sad. They Seek to know my meaning as the moon Would fathom the sea. I have bared my life before your Eyes from end to end, with nothing Hidden or held back. That is why you Know me not. If it were only a gem, I could break It into a […]...
38. The Prince's Day Though dark are our sorrows, today we’ll forget them, And smile through our tears, like a sunbeam in showers: There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them, More form’d to be grateful and blest than ours. But just when the chain, Has ceased to pain, And hope has enwreathed it round with flowers, […]...
39. Misconceptions This is a spray the Bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprung to, Fit for her nest and her treasure. Oh, what a hope beyond measure Was the poor spray’s, which the flying feet hung to,- So to be singled out, built in, and sung to! This is […]...
40. The Little Workgirl Three gentlemen live close beside me A painter of pictures bizarre, A poet whose virtues might guide me, A singer who plays the guitar; And there on my lintel is Cupid; I leave my door open, and yet These gentlemen, aren’t they stupid! They never make love to Babette. I go to the shop every […]...