Poems & Ballads: Second & Third Series

Priekinis viršelis
Thomas B. Mosher, 1902 - 327 psl.

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51 psl. - SHALL I strew on thee rose or rue or laurel, Brother, on this that was the veil of thee? Or quiet sea-flower moulded by the sea, Or simplest growth of meadow-sweet or sorrel, Such as the summer-sleepy Dryads weave, Waked up by snow-soft sudden rains at eve?
21 psl. - Look forth from the flowers to the sea; For the foam-flowers endure when the rose-blossoms wither, And men that love lightly may die — but we?
20 psl. - Not a flower to be prest of the foot that falls not; As the heart of a dead man the seed-plots are dry ; From the thicket of thorns whence the nightingale calls not, Could she call, there were never a rose to reply. Over the meadows that blossom and wither Rings but the note of a sea-bird's song ; Only the sun and the rain come hither All year long.
54 psl. - Under the shadow of her fair vast head, The deep division of prodigious breasts, The solemn slope of mighty limbs asleep, The weight of awful tresses that still keep The savour and shade of old-world pine-forests Where the wet hill-winds weep?
52 psl. - For always thee the fervid languid glories Allured of heavier suns in mightier skies; Thine ears knew all the wandering watery sighs Where the sea sobs round Lesbian promontories, The barren kiss of piteous wave to wave That knows not where is that Leucadian grave Which hides too deep the supreme head of song.
229 psl. - WHEN I had wings, my brother, Such wings were mine as thine ; Such life my heart remembers In all as wild Septembers As this when life seems other, Though sweet, than once was mine ; When I had wings, my brother, Such wings were mine as thine.
19 psl. - A FORSAKEN GARDEN In a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee, Walled round with rocks as an inland island, The ghost of a garden fronts the sea.
167 psl. - Alas ! their right to joy is plain. If they are hungry, Paradise Weeps, and, if cold, Heaven thrills with pain. The want that saps their sinless flower Speaks judgment on sin's ministers. Man holds an angel in his power. Ah ! deep in Heaven what thunder stirs, When God seeks out these tender things Whom in the shadow where we sleep He sends us clothed about with wings, And finds them ragged babes that weep...
59 psl. - And now no sacred staff shall break in blossom, No choral salutation lure to light A spirit sick with perfume and sweet night And love's tired eyes and hands and barren bosom. There is no help for these things...
56 psl. - Not thee, O never thee, in all time's changes, Not thee, but this the sound of thy sad soul, The shadow of thy swift spirit, this shut scroll I lay my hand on, and not death estranges My spirit from communion of thy song — These memories and these melodies that throng Veiled porches of a Muse...

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