As In Their Flight The Birds Of Song
AS in their flight the birds of song Halt here and there in sweet and sunny dales, But halt not overlong; The time one rural song to sing They pause; then following bounteous gales
Ad Magistrum Ludi
NOW in the sky And on the hearth of Now in a drawer the direful cane, That sceptre of the. . . reign, And the long hawser, that on the back Of Marsyas fell
Man Sails The Deep Awhile
MAN sails the deep awhile; Loud runs the roaring tide; The seas are wild and wide; O’er many a salt, o’er many a desert mile, The unchained breakers ride, The quivering stars beguile. Hope
In The Green And Gallant Spring
IN the green and gallant Spring, Love and the lyre I thought to sing, And kisses sweet to give and take By the flowery hawthorn brake. Now is russet Autumn here, Death and the
St. Martin's Summer
AS swallows turning backward When half-way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me – The hopes I had forgotten Came back again to me. I know not which
Home, My Little Children, Hear Are Songs For You
COME, my little children, here are songs for you; Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new. You must learn to sing them very small and clear, Very true to
Thou Strainest Through The Mountain Fern
THOU strainest through the mountain fern, A most exiguously thin Burn. For all thy foam, for all thy din, Thee shall the pallid lake inurn, With well-a-day for Mr. Swin-Burne! Take then this quarto
De Hortis Julii Martialis
MY Martial owns a garden, famed to please, Beyond the glades of the Hesperides; Along Janiculum lies the chosen block Where the cool grottos trench the hanging rock. The moderate summit, something plain and
Still I Love To Rhyme
STILL I love to rhyme, and still more, rhyming, to wander Far from the commoner way; Old-time trills and falls by the brook-side still do I ponder, Dreaming to-morrow to-day. Come here, come, revive
Early In The Morning I Hear On Your Piano
EARLY in the morning I hear on your piano You (at least, I guess it’s you) proceed to learn to play. Mostly little minds should take and tackle their piano While the birds are
After Reading "Antony And Cleopatra"
AS when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea’s roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire –
The Vanquished Knight
I HAVE left all upon the shameful field, Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield, Degraded and disgraced, I leave the strife. From him that
Since Thou Hast Given Me This Good Hope, O God
SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God, That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod And the great woods embower me, and white dawn And purple even sweetly lead me on
Long Time I Lay In Little Ease
LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE LONG time I lay in little ease Where, placed by the Turanian, Marseilles, the many-masted, sees The blue Mediterranean. Now songful in the hour of sport, Now
De Erotio Puella
THIS girl was sweeter than the song of swans, And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls, Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls; The teeth of