UPON JULIA'S VOICE

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1. My Voice Within this restless, hurried, modern world We took our hearts’ full pleasure – You and I, And now the white sails of our ship are furled, And spent the lading of our argosy. Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan, For very weeping is my gladness fled, Sorrow has paled my young mouth’s vermilion, […]...
2. The Voice As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters Of a lonely mere, On the wild whirling waves, mournfully, mournfully, Shiver and die. As the tears of sorrow Mothers have shed- Prayers that tomorrow Shall in vain be sped When the flower they flow […]...
3. On Julia's Voice So smooth, so sweet, so silv’ry is thy voice, As, could they hear, the Damned would make no noise, But listen to thee (walking in thy chamber) Melting melodious words to Lutes of Amber....
4. Echo How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o’er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light. Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e’er beneath the moonlight’s star, Of horn or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat. ‘Tis […]...
5. I hear the oriole's always-grieving voice I hear the oriole’s always-grieving voice, And the rich summer’s welcome loss I hear In the sickle’s serpentine hiss Cutting the corn’s ear tightly pressed to ear. And the short skirts of the slim reapers Fly in the wind like holiday pennants, The clash of joyful cymbals, and creeping From under dusty lashes, the long […]...
6. My Lute Awake My lute awake! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and past, My lute be still, for I have done. As to be heard where ear is none, As lead to grave in marble stone, My song may pierce […]...
7. Thekla – A Spirit Voice Whither was it that my spirit wended When from thee my fleeting shadow moved? Is not now each earthly conflict ended? Say, have I not lived, have I not loved? Art thou for the nightingales inquiring Who entranced thee in the early year With their melody so joy-inspiring? Only whilst they loved they lingered here. […]...
8. A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
9. The Voice of Robert Desnos So like a flower and a current of air The flow of water fleeting shadows The smile glimpsed at midnight this excellent evening So like every joy and every sadness It is the midnight past lifting its naked body above belfries and poplars I call to me those lost in the fields Old skeletons young […]...
10. The Voice of the Waters WHERE the Greyhound River windeth through a loneliness so deep, Scarce a wild fowl shakes the quiet that the purple boglands keep, Only God exults in silence over fields no man may reap. Where the silver wave with sweetness fed the tiny lives of grass I was bent above, my image mirrored in the fleeting […]...
11. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play! And as he leads the way Through heaven, the very spheres, As men, turn all to ears!...
12. A Voice From The Dungeon I’m buried now; I’ve done with life; I’ve done with hate, revenge and strife; I’ve done with joy, and hope and love And all the bustling world above. Long have I dwelt forgotten here In pining woe and dull despair; This place of solitude and gloom Must be my dungeon and my tomb. No hope, […]...
13. Put up my lute! Put up my lute! What of my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to charm Passive as Granite laps My Music Sobbing will suit as well as psalm! Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert Teach me the strain That vanquished Him When He surrendered to the Sunrise Maybe that would awaken them!...
14. I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair Don’t go far off, not even for a day Don’t go far off, not even for a day, Because I don’t know how to say it – a day is long And I will be waiting for you, as in An empty station when the trains are Parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don’t leave me, […]...
15. The Voice Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as […]...
16. Again his voice is at the door Again his voice is at the door I feel the old Degree I hear him ask the servant For such an one as me I take a flower as I go My face to justify He never saw me in this life I might surprise his eye! I cross the Hall with mingled steps I […]...
17. When The Lamp Is Shattered When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead When the cloud is scattered, The rainbow’s glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart’s […]...
18. Hear the Voice HEAR the voice of the Bard, Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walk’d among the ancient trees; Calling the lapsed soul, And weeping in the evening dew; That might control The starry pole, And fallen, fallen light renew! ‘O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the […]...
19. Lines WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remember’d not When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart’s […]...
20. Her Voice The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing, Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering; Sit closer love: it was here I trow I made that vow, Swore that two lives should be like one As long as the sea-gull […]...
21. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
22. One Way Of Love All June I bound the rose in sheaves. Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves And strew them where Pauline may pass. She will not turn aside? Alas! Let them lie. Suppose they die? The chance was they might take her eye. II. How many a month I strove to suit These stubborn fingers […]...
23. A Voice from the Town I thought, in the days of the droving, Of steps I might hope to retrace, To be done with the bush and the roving And settle once more in my place. With a heart that was well nigh to breaking, In the long, lonely rides on the plain, I thought of the pleasure of taking […]...
24. Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Everything that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In […]...
25. The Lute And The Lyre Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root, Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring fire, Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit Deep desire. Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose buds respire, Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the fruit, Sounds the […]...
26. Orpheus ? or John Fletcher. ORPHEUS with his lute made trees And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads […]...
27. Israfel In Heaven a spirit doth dwell “Whose heart-strings are a lute”; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute. Tottering above In her highest noon, The enamored moon Blushes with love, While, to listen, the red […]...
28. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses: Stately Julia, prime of all; Sapho next, a principal: Smooth Anthea, for a skin White, and heaven-like crystalline: Sweet Electra, and the choice Myrha, for the lute and voice. Next, Corinna, for her wit, And the graceful use of it; With Perilla: All are gone; Only […]...
29. Grief O who will give me tears? Come, all ye springs, Dwell in my head and eyes; come, clouds And rain; My grief hath need of all the watery things That nature hath produced: let every vein Suck up a river to supply mine eyes, My weary weeping eyes, too dry for me, Unless they get […]...
30. Easter Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise Without delays, Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise With him may’st rise: That, as his death calcinиd thee to dust, His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just. Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part With all thy art, The […]...
31. A Poet's Voice XV Part One The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it […]...
32. Serenade So sweet the hour, so calm the time, I feel it more than half a crime, When Nature sleeps and stars are mute, To mar the silence ev’n with lute. At rest on ocean’s brilliant dyes An image of Elysium lies: Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven, Form in the deep another seven: Endymion nodding from […]...
33. The Voice of the Sea THE SEA was hoary, hoary, Beating on rock and cave: The winds were white and weeping With foam dust of the wave. They thundered louder, louder, With storm-lips curled in scorn- And dost thou tremble before us, O fallen star of morn?...
34. The Voice Where is the distant voice That speaks like my soul? Buried beneath daylight’s clamor Gold and the seasons Beneath groaning streets And the ferment of cities In my grave of care And blond laughter In what bare tomb must I lie To summon the voice That speaks like my soul?...
35. At the Top of My voice My most respected comrades of posterity! Rummaging among these days’ petrified crap, Exploring the twilight of our times, You, possibly, will inquire about me too. And, possibly, your scholars will declare, With their erudition overwhelming a swarm of problems; Once there lived a certain champion of boiled water, And inveterate enemy of raw water. Professor, […]...
36. To Robert Nichols (From Frise on the Somme in February, 1917, in answer to a letter saying: “I am just finishing my ‘Faun’s Holiday.’ I wish you were here to feed him with cherries.”) Here by a snowbound river In scrapen holes we shiver, And like old bitterns we Boom to you plaintively: Robert, how can I rhyme […]...
37. The Voice Safe in the magic of my woods I lay, and watched the dying light. Faint in the pale high solitudes, And washed with rain and veiled by night, Silver and blue and green were showing. And the dark woods grew darker still; And birds were hushed; and peace was growing; And quietness crept up the […]...
38. The Voice of Age She’d look upon us, if she could, As hard as Rhadamanthus would; Yet one may see,-who sees her face, Her crown of silver and of lace, Her mystical serene address Of age alloyed with loveliness,- That she would not annihilate The frailest of things animate. She has opinions of our ways, And if we’re not […]...
39. A Woman's Voice HIS head within my bosom lay, But yet his spirit slipped not through: I only felt the burning clay That withered for the cooling dew. It was but pity when I spoke And called him to my heart for rest, And half a mother’s love that woke Feeling his head upon my breast: And half […]...
40. Because Your Voice Was at My Side Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain, Because within my hand I held Your hand again. There is no word nor any sign Can make amend – He is a stranger to me now Who was my friend....