Rome at the Pyramid of Cestius Near the Graves of Shelley and Keats
Who, then, was Cestius, And what is he to me? – Amid thick thoughts and memories multitudinous One thought alone brings he. I can recall no word Of anything he did; For me he
The Peasant's Confession
Good Father!… ‘Twas an eve in middle June, And war was waged anew By great Napoleon, who for years had strewn Men’s bones all Europe through. Three nights ere this, with columned corps he’d
Architectural Masks
I There is a house with ivied walls, And mullioned windows worn and old, And the long dwellers in those halls Have souls that know but sordid calls, And dote on gold. II In
Neutral Tones
WE stood by a pond that winter day, And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod, They had fallen from an ash, and
In The Moonlight
“O lonely workman, standing there In a dream, why do you stare and stare At her grave, as no other grave where there?” “If your great gaunt eyes so importune Her soul by the
The Levelled Churchyard
“O passenger, pray list and catch Our sighs and piteous groans, Half stifled in this jumbled patch Of wrenched memorial stones! “We late-lamented, resting here, Are mixed to human jam, And each to each
From Victor Hugo
Child, were I king, I’d yield my royal rule, My chariot, sceptre, vassal-service due, My crown, my porphyry-basined waters cool, My fleets, whereto the sea is but a pool, For a glance from you!
George Meredith
Forty years back, when much had place That since has perished out of mind, I heard that voice and saw that face. He spoke as one afoot will wind A morning horn ere men
The Rambler
I do not see the hills around, Nor mark the tints the copses wear; I do not note the grassy ground And constellated daisies there. I hear not the contralto note Of cuckoos hid
To An Unborn Pauper Child
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently, And though thy birth-hour beckons thee, Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here, And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear. Hark, how
In A Eweleaze Near Weatherbury
THE years have gathered grayly Since I danced upon this leaze With one who kindled gayly Love’s fitful ecstasies! But despite the term as teacher, I remain what I was then In each essential
The Coquette, and After (Triolets)
I For long the cruel wish I knew That your free heart should ache for me While mine should bear no ache for you; For, long the cruel wish! I knew How men can
The Burghers
THE sun had wheeled from Grey’s to Dammer’s Crest, And still I mused on that Thing imminent: At length I sought the High-street to the West. The level flare raked pane and pediment And
The Year's Awakening
How do you know that the pilgrim track Along the belting zodiac Swept by the sun in his seeming rounds Is traced by now to the Fishes’ bounds And into the Ram, when weeks
Nature's Questioning
WHEN I look forth at dawning, pool, Field, flock, and lonely tree, All seem to look at me Like chastened children sitting silent in a school; Their faces dulled, constrained, and worn, As though