PoemsDavid Bogue, 3, St. Martin's Place, Trafalgar Square, W.C., 1881 - 236 страница |
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amorous Arcady argent argosy Artemis asphodel Bassarid Beauty BELLA DONNA beneath bird blossoms blue breast bright brown Charmides creeps crimson crowned daffodil dawn dead dear Dost thou dread Dryad dull dusky ELEUTHERIA Endymion eyes fair feet flame flower foam glade gold golden grass Grecian green grey hair hand hath heart heaven Herakles hills House of Pain kiss knew land laughing leaves lily limbs lips lonely love's lovers lute lyre marble meadows mighty moon mouth never night pain pale paramour pass passion Persephone pipe Proserpine purple Queen reed rose seneschal shepherd shrine Sicily silent silver sing sleep snow song soul spear star sweet tangled tarry thee THEOCRITUS Thessaly thine threnody throat throbbing thrush tread trees tremulous Tyrian unto VILLANELLE wandering wasted waves wearied wild wind wings yellow young
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Страница 38 - REQUIESCAT TREAD lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, I vex my heart alone She is at rest. Peace, Peace, she cannot hear Lyre or sonnet, All my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it.
Страница 5 - The brazen-throated clarion blows Across the Pathan's reedy fen, And the high steeps of Indian snows Shake to the tread of armed men. And many an Afghan chief, who lies Beneath his cool pomegranate-trees, Clutches his sword in fierce surmise When on the mountainside he sees The fleet-foot Mam scout, who comes To tell how he hath heard afar The measured roll of English drums Beat at the gates of Kandahar.
Страница 8 - For some are by the Delhi walls, And many in the Afghan land, And many where the Ganges falls Through seven mouths of shifting sand. And some in Russian waters lie, And others in the seas which are The portals to the East, or by The wind-swept heights of Trafalgar.
Страница 168 - I MARVEL not Bassanio was so bold To peril all he had upon the lead, Or that proud Aragon bent low his head, Or that Morocco's fiery heart grew cold : For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gold Which is more golden than the golden sun, No woman Veronese looked upon Was half so fair as thou whom I behold. Yet fairer when with wisdom as your shield The sober-suited lawyer's gown you donned, And would not let the laws of Venice yield Antonio's heart to that accursed Jew— O Portia!
Страница 147 - Rid of the world's injustice and its pain, He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue ; Taken from life while life and love were new The youngest of the martyrs here is lain, Fair as Sebastian and as foully slain.
Страница 50 - In splendor and in light the Pope passed home. " My heart stole back across wide wastes of years To One who wandered by a lonely sea; And sought in vain for any place of rest : 'Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest, I, only I, must wander wearily, And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.
Страница 149 - ... thou remember Sicily ? Still through the ivy flits the bee Where Amaryllis lies in state ; O Singer of Persephone ! Simaetha calls on Hecate And hears the wild dogs at the gate ; Dost thou remember Sicily ? Still by the light and laughing sea Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate ; O Singer of Persephone...
Страница 51 - COME down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand, For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee : The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, My heart is as some famine-murdered land, Whence all good things have perished utterly, And well I know my soul in Hell must lie If I this night before God's throne should stand. " He sleeps perchance, or rideth to the chase, Like Baal, when his prophets howled that name From morn to noon on Carmel's smitten height.
Страница 54 - THE NEW HELEN. Where hast thou been since round the walls of Troy The sons of God fought in that great emprise ? Why dost thou walk our common earth again? Hast thou forgotten that impassioned boy, His purple galley, and his Tyrian men, And treacherous Aphrodite's mocking eyes? For surely it was thou, who, like a star Hung in the silver silence of the night, Didst lure the Old World chivalry and might Into the clamorous crimson waves of war!