Datur Hora Quieti

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1. We Never Said Farewell WE never said farewell, nor even looked Our last upon each other, for no sign Was made when we the linkèd chain unhooked And broke the level line. And here we dwell together, side by side, Our places fixed for life upon the chart. Two islands that the roaring seas divide Are not more far […]...
2. Who Goes With Fergus? Who will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood’s woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids, maid, And brood on hopes and fear no more. And no more turn aside and brood Upon love’s bitter mystery; For Fergus rules […]...
3. Hora Stellatrix The stars hang thick in the apple tree, The south wind smells of the pungent sea, Gold tulip cups are heavy with dew. The night’s for you, Sweetheart, for you! Starfire rains from the vaulted blue. Listen! The dancing of unseen leaves. A drowsy swallow stirs in the eaves. Only a maiden is sorrowing. ‘T […]...
4. The Boola-Boola Maid In the wilds of Madagascar, Dwelt a Boola-boola maid; For her hand young men would ask her, But she always was afraid. Oh that Boola-boola maid She was living in the shade Of a spreading Yum-yum tree; And – when the day was done At the setting of the sun, She would make this melodee: […]...
5. To Christina, Queen of Sweden Verses to accompany a portrait of Cromwell Bright Martial Maid, Queen of the frozen zone, The northern pole supports thy shining throne. Behold what furrows age and steel can plough; The helmet’s weight oppressed this wrinkled brow. Through fate’s untrodden paths I move; my hands Still act my free-born people’s bold commands; Yet this stern […]...
6. Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many An evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of Bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth Had come to her over the young shoots of rice. Her pet name is known here […]...
7. The Village Green On the cheerful village green, Skirted round with houses small, All the boys and girls are seen, Playing there with hoop and ball. Now they frolic hand in hand, Making many a merry chain; Then they form a warlike band, Marching o’er the level plain. Now ascends the worsted ball, High it rises in the […]...
8. County Guy Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark his lay who thrill’d all day Sits hush’d his partner nigh: Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour, But where is County Guy? The village maid steals through […]...
9. A Serenade Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh The sun has left the lea, The orange-flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark, his lay who trill’d all day, Sits hush’d his partner nigh; Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour, But where is County Guy? The village maid steals through the […]...
10. Mysterious doings As once I rambled in the woods I chanced to spy amid the brake A huntsman ride his way beside A fair and passing tranquil lake; Though velvet bucks sped here and there, He let them scamper through the green Not one smote he, but lustily He blew his horn what could it mean? As […]...
11. Merops What care I, so they stand the same,- Things of the heavenly mind,- How long the power to give them fame Tarries yet behind? Thus far to-day your favors reach, O fair, appeasing Presences! Ye taught my lips a single speech, And a thousand silences. Space grants beyond his fated road No inch to the […]...
12. A Rajput Love Song (Parvati at her lattice) O Love! were you a basil-wreath to twine Among my tresses, A jewelled clasp of shining gold to bind around my sleeve, O Love! were you the keora’s soul that haunts My silken raiment, A bright, vermilion tassel in the girdles that I weave; O Love! were you the scented fan […]...
13. Metaphors Of A Magnifico Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges, Into twenty villages, Or one man Crossing a single bridge into a village. This is old song That will not declare itself. . . Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are Twenty men crossing a bridge Into a village. […]...
14. There Was One There was one a-riding grand On a tall brown mare, And a fine gold band He brought me there. A little, gold band He held to me That would shine on a hand For the world to see. There was one a-walking swift To a little, new song, And a rose was the gift He […]...
15. 449. Song-The Flowery banks of Cree HERE is the glen, and here the bower All underneath the birchen shade; The village-bell has told the hour, O what can stay my lovely maid? ‘Tis not Maria’s whispering call; ‘Tis but the balmy breathing gale, Mixt with some warbler’s dying fall, The dewy star of eve to hail. It is Maria’s voice I […]...
16. The Little Girl Lost In futurity I prophesy see. That the earth from sleep. (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise and seek For her maker meek: And the desart wild Become a garden mild. In the southern clime, Where the summers prime Never fades away; Lovely Lyca lay. Seven summers old Lovely Lyca told, She had wandered long. Hearing […]...
17. ARCADIAN WINTER WOE is me to tell it thee, Winter winds in Arcady! Scattered is thy flock and fled From the glades where once it fed, And the snow lies drifted white In the bower of our delight, Where the beech threw gracious shade On the cheek of boy and maid: And the bitter blasts make roar […]...
18. To My Own Minature Picture Taken At Two Years Of Age And I was once like this! that glowing cheek Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling eyes, that brow Smooth as the level lake, when not a breeze Dies o’er the sleeping surface! twenty years Have wrought strange alteration! Of the friends Who once so dearly prized this miniature, And loved it for its likeness, some are gone […]...
19. State's Attorney Fallas I, the scourge-wielder, balance-wrecker, Smiter with whips and swords; I, hater of the breakers of the law; I, legalist, inexorable and bitter, Driving the jury to hang the madman, Barry Holden, Was made as one dead by light too bright for eyes, And woke to face a Truth with bloody brow: Steel forceps fumbled by […]...
20. They Were Welcome To Their Belief Grief may have thought it was grief. Care may have thought it was care. They were welcome to their belief, The overimportant pair. No, it took all the snows that clung To the low roof over his bed, Beginning when he was young, To induce the one snow on his head. But whenever the roof […]...
21. Call Me Away Call me away; there’s nothing here, That wins my soul to stay; Then let me leave this prospect drear, And hasten far away. To our beloved land I’ll flee, Our land of thought and soul, Where I have roved so oft with thee, Beyond the world’s control. I’ll sit and watch those ancient trees, Those […]...
22. To A Lady On The Death Of Her Husband GRIM monarch! see, depriv’d of vital breath, A young physician in the dust of death: Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? Enough thou never yet wast known to say, Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of […]...
23. LONGING WHAT pulls at my heart so? What tells me to roam? What drags me and lures me From chamber and home? How round the cliffs gather The clouds high in air! I fain would go thither, I fain would be there! The sociable flight Of the ravens comes back; I mingle amongst them, And follow […]...
24. To Simplicity [Inscribed to Lady Duncannon.] SWEET blushing Nymph, who loves to dwell In the dark forest’s silent gloom; Who smiles within the Hermit’s cell, And sighs upon the rustic’s tomb; Who, pitying, sees the busy throng, The slaves of fashion’s giddy sway; Who in a wild and artless song, Warbles the feath’ry hours away. Oft have […]...
25. Lines Written at Thorp Green That summer sun, whose genial glow Now cheers my drooping spirit so Must cold and distant be, And only light our northern clime With feeble ray, before the time I long so much to see. And this soft whispering breeze that now So gently cools my fevered brow, This too, alas, must turn To a […]...
26. To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On the Death Of His Daughter WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter Laid In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, And racks your bosom with incessant woe, Let Recollection take a tender part, Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, And pour the […]...
27. Letter You can see it already: chalks and ochers; Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines; Ground-level rooftops hidden by the shrubbery; Sporadic haystacks standing on the grass; Smoky old rooftops tarnishing the landscape; A river (not Cayster or Ganges, though: A feeble Norman salt-infested watercourse); On the right, to the north, bizarre terrain All angular you’d […]...
28. The Crossed Apple I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard, Of wide report. I have trees there that bear me many apples. Of every sort: Clear, streaked; red and russet; green and golden; Sour and sweet. This apple’s from a tree yet unbeholden, Where two kinds meet,- So that this side is red without a […]...
29. On a Columnar Self On a Columnar Self How ample to rely In Tumult or Extremity How good the Certainty That Lever cannot pry And Wedge cannot divide Conviction That Granitic Base Though None be on our Side Suffice Us for a Crowd Ourself and Rectitude And that Assembly not far off From furthest Spirit God...
30. The Hero Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a Strange and dangerous country. You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a Red horse. It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi Lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren. […]...
31. La Belle Dame Sans Merci Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing. Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full, And the harvest’s done. I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever […]...
32. Beautiful Rothesay Beautiful Rothesay, your scenery is most grand, You cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland. Tis healthy for holiday makers, to go there, For the benefit of their health, by inhaling the pure air And to hear the innocent birds, on a fine Summer day, Carolling their sweet songs, so lively and gay, Therefore, holiday makers, […]...
33. Listening ‘T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong Sings but of you. Throughout your whole life long Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, each divide This perfect beauty; waves within a […]...
34. Serepta Mason My life’s blossom might have bloomed on all sides Save for a bitter wind which stunted my petals On the side of me which you in the village could see. From the dust I lift a voice of protest: My flowering side you never saw! Ye living ones, ye are fools indeed Who do not […]...
35. Incantation A white well In a black cave; A bright shell In a dark wave. A white rose Black brambles hood; Smooth bright snows In a dark wood. A flung white glove In a dark fight; A white dove On a wild black night. A white door In a dark lane; A bright core To bitter […]...
36. Riddle Where far in forest I am laid, In a place ringed around by stones, Look for no melancholy shade, And have no thoughts of buried bones; For I am bodiless and bright, And fill this glade with sudden glow; The leaves are washed in under-light; Shade lies upon the boughs like snow....
37. Night And Day The innocent, sweet Day is dead. Dark Night hath slain her in her bed. O, Moors are as fierce to kill as to wed! Put out the light, said he. A sweeter light than ever rayed From star of heaven or eye of maid Has vanished in the unknown Shade. She’s dead, she’s dead, said […]...
38. Sonnet XLIII When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow’s form form happy show To the clear […]...
39. Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow’s form, form happy show To the clear […]...
40. THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE My neighbour, none can e’er deny, Is a most beauteous maid; Her shop is ever in mine eye, When working at my trade. To ring and chain I hammer then The wire of gold assay’d, And think the while: “For Kate, oh when Will such a ring be made?” And when she takes her shutters […]...