I Remember
It was my bridal night I remember, An old man of seventy-three I lay with my young bride in my arms, A girl with t. b. It was wartime, and overhead The Germans were
Conviction (iv)
I like to get off with people, I like to lie in their arms I like to be held and lightly kissed, Safe from all alarms. I like to laugh and be happy With
My Heart Goes Out
My heart goes out to my Creator in love Who gave me Death, as end and remedy. All living creatures come to quiet Death For him to eat up their activity And give them
Exeat
I remember the Roman Emperor, one of the cruellest of them, Who used to visit for pleasure his poor prisoners cramped in dungeons, So then they would beg him for death, and then he
Pad, Pad
I always remember your beautiful flowers And the beautiful kimono you wore When you sat on the couch With that tigerish crouch And told me you loved me no more. What I cannot remember
Never Again
Never again will I weep And wring my hands And beat my head against the wall Because Me nolentem fata trahunt But When I have had enough I will arise And go unto my
Nor We Of Her To Him
He said no word of her to us Nor we of her to him, But oh it saddened us to see How wan he grew and thin. We said: she eats him day and
The Pleasures Of Friendship
The pleasures of friendship are exquisite, How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit! I go to my friend, we walk on the grass, And the hours and moments like minutes pass.
Alone In The Woods
Alone in the woods I felt The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees Nature has taught her creatures to hate Man that fusses and fumes Unquiet man As the sap rises in
The Jungle Husband
Dearest Evelyn, I often think of you Out with the guns in the jungle stew Yesterday I hittapotamus I put the measurements down for you but they got lost in the fuss It’s not
Autumn
He told his life story to Mrs. Courtly Who was a widow. ‘Let us get married shortly’, He said. ‘I am no longer passionate, But we can have some conversation before it is too
Away, Melancholy
Away, melancholy, Away with it, let it go. Are not the trees green, The earth as green? Does not the wind blow, Fire leap and the rivers flow? Away melancholy. The ant is busy
Happiness
Happiness is silent, or speaks equivocally for friends, Grief is explicit and her song never ends, Happiness is like England, and will not state a case, Grief, like Guilt, rushes in and talks apace.
Not Waving But Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead