I live with him, I see his face;
I go no more away
For visitor, or sundown;
Death's single privacy,

The only one forestalling mine,
And that by right that he
Presents a claim invisible,
No wedlock granted me.

I live with him, I hear his voice,
I stand alive to-day
To witness to the certainty
Of immortality

Taught me by Time, -- the lower way,
Conviction every day, --
That life like this is endless,
Be judgment what it may.

Lie down upon the ground, thou hopeless one!
Press thy face in the grass, and do not speak.
Dost feel the green globe whirl? Seven times a week
Climbeth she out of darkness to the sun,
Which is her God; seven times she doth not shun
Awful eclipse, laying her patient cheek
Upon a pillow ghost-beset with shriek
Of voices utterless, which rave and run
Through all the star-penumbra, craving light
And tidings of the dawn from East and West.
Calmly she sleepeth, and her sleep is blest
With heavenly visions, and the joy of Night
Treading aloft with moons; nor hath she fright
Though cloudy tempests beat upon her breast.

    A deep calm sea; on the blue waters toiled,
    From morn till eve, the simple fishermen;
    And, on the beach, there stood a group of huts
    Before whose gates old men sat mending nets
    And eyed with secret joy the little boys
    That gaily gambolled on the sandy beach
    Regardless of their parents' daily toils.
    And all the busy women left their homes
    And their young ones with baskets on their heads
    Filled with the finny treasures of the deep.

    A thousand yards to landward rose a town
    With its broad streets, high roofs, and busy marts.
    An ancient temple in the centre stood,
    Where to his servant Nandi once appeared
    Great Siva, it is said, in human frame.
    E'en learned saints sang of the holy shrine;
    And ...

This was the tale Sher Afzul told to me,
While the spent camels bubbled on their knees,
And ruddy camp-fires twinkled through the gloom
Sweet with the fragrance from the Sinjib trees.

I had a friend who lay, condemned to death
In gaol for murder, wholly innocent,
Yet caught in webs of luckless circumstance; -
Thou know'st how lies, of good and ill intent,

Cluster like flies around a justice-court,
Wheel within wheel, revolving screw on screw; -
But from his prison he escaped and fled,
Keeping his liberty a night or two

Among the lonely hills, where, shackled still,
He braved a village, seeking for a file
To loose his irons; alas! he lost his life
Through the base sweetness of a woman's smile.

Lovely she was, and young, who gave the yout...

I

They whisper at my very gate,
These clacking gossips every one,
"We saw them in the wood of late,
Her and the widow's son;
The horses at the forge may wait,
The wool may go unspun."

I spread the food he loves the best,
I light the lamp when day is done,
Yet still he stays another's guest--
Oh, my one son, my son.
I would it burned in mine own breast
The spell he may not shun.

She hath bewitched him with her eyes.
(No goodly maid hath eyes as bright.)
Pale in the morn I watch him rise,
As one who wanders far by night.
The gossips whisper and surmise--
I hide me from the light.


II

Her hair is yellow as the corn,
Her eyes are bluer than the sky;
Behind the casement yester-morn,
I watched her...

(Mrs. Jefferson Davis, widow of the President of the Southern Confederacy died October 16, 1906.)


Oh weep fair South, and bow thy head
    For one is gone beyond recall!
Cast flowers on the sainted dead
    Who sleeps beneath a funeral pall.
    To the sound of muffled drum,
    To the sound of muffled drum.

She saw a noble husband's fame
    Grow more enduring with the years,
And in the land his honored name
    Loom brighter through a mist of tears,
    But the sound of muffled drum!
    O the sound of muffled drum!

Our fate is but to meet and part
    Upon Life's dark and troubled sea,
Yet recollection stirs the heart,
    Of men in gray who used to be,
    But the sound of muffled drum!
    O the sound of muffled drum!

    Life ne'er exulted in so rich a prize
    As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
    Nor envious death so triumph'd in a blow,
    As that which laid th' accomplish'd Burnet low.

    Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget?
    In richest ore the brightest jewel set!
    In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown,
    As by his noblest work, the Godhead best is known.

    In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves;
        Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore,
    Ye woodland choir that chant your idle loves,
        Ye cease to charm, Eliza is no more!

    Ye heathy wastes, immix'd with reedy fens;
        Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stor'd;
    Ye rugged cliffs, o'erhanging dreary glens,
        To you I fly, ...

DRINK, oh youth, joy's purest ray
From thy loved one's eyes all day,

And her image paint at night!
Better rule no lover knows,
Yet true rapture greater grows,

When far sever'd from her sight.

Powers eternal, distance, time,
Like the might of stars sublime,

Gently rock the blood to rest,
O'er my senses softness steals,
Yet my bosom lighter feels,

And I daily am more blest.

Though I can forget her ne'er,
Yet my mind is free from care,

I can calmly live and move;
Unperceived infatuation
Longing turns to adoration,

Turns to reverence my love.

Ne'er can cloud, however light,
Float in ether's regions bright,

When drawn upwards by the sun,
As my heart in rapturous calm.
Free fro...

Amor che nel pensier mio vive e regna.

THE COURAGE AND TIMIDITY OF LOVE.


    The long Love that in my thought I harbour,
And in my heart doth keep his residence,
Into my face pressèth with bold pretence,
And there campèth displaying his bannèr.
She that me learns to love and to suffèr,
And wills that my trust, and lust's negligence
Be rein'd by reason, shame, and reverence,
With his hardiness takes displeasure.
Wherewith Love to the heart's forest he fleeth,
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,
And there him hideth, and not appearèth.
What may I do, when my master fearèth,
But in the field with him to live and die?
For good is the life, ending faithfully.

WYATT.


    Love, that liveth and reigneth in my thoug...

We embrace.
Rich cloth under my fingers
While yours touch poor fabric.
A quick embrace
You were invited for dinner
While the minions of law are after me.
We talk about the weather and our
Lasting friendship. Anything else
Would be too bitter.

When the rose is brightest,
Its bloom will soonest die;
When burns the meteor brightest,
’T will vanish from the sky.
If Death but wait until delight
O’errun the heart like wine,
And break the cup when brimming quite,
I die, for thou hast poured to-night
The last drop into mine

    Blood, hatred, appetite and apathy,
    The sodden many and the struggling strong,
    Who care not now though for another wrong
    Another myriad innocents should die.
    At candid savagery or oily lie
    We laugh, or, turning, join the noisy throng
    Which buries the dead with gluttony and song.
    Suppose this very evening from on high
    Broke on the world that unexampled flame
    The choir-thronged sky, and Thou, descending, Lord;
    What agony of horror, fear, and shame,
    For those who knew and wearied of Thy word,
    I dare not even think, who am confest
    Idle, malignant, lustful as the rest.

Plac'd in the forlorne hope of all dispayre
Against the Forte where Beauties Army lies,
Assayld with death, yet armed with gastly feare,
Loe! thus my loue, my lyfe, my fortune tryes.
Wounded with Arrowes from thy lightning eyes,
My tongue in payne my harts counsels bewraying,
My rebell thought for me in Ambushe lyes,
To my lyues foe her Chieftaine still betraying.
Record my loue in Ocean waues (vnkind)
Cast my desarts into the open ayre,
Commit my words vnto the fleeting wind,
Cancell my name, and blot it with dispayre;
    So shall I bee as I had neuer beene,
    Nor my disgraces to the world be seene.

They mouth love's language. Gnash
The thirteen teeth
Your lean jaws grin with. Lash
Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.
Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung,
As sour as cat's breath,
Harsh of tongue.

This grey that stares
Lies not, stark skin and bone.
Leave greasy lips their kissing. None
Will choose her what you see to mouth upon.
Dire hunger holds his hour.
Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears.
Pluck and devour!

Mark:
So, Maurice, you sail to-morrow, you say?
And you may or may not return?
Be sociable, man! for once in a way,
Unless you’re too old to learn.
The shadows are cool by the water side
Where the willows grow by the pond,
And the yellow laburnum’s drooping pride
Sheds a golden gleam beyond.
For the blended tints of the summer flowers,
For the scents of the summer air,
For all nature’s charms in this world of ours,
’Tis little or naught you care.
Yet I know for certain you haven’t stirred
Since noon from your chosen spot;
And you’ve hardly spoken a single word,
Are you tired, or cross, or what?
You’re fretting about those shares you bought,
They were to have gone up fast;
But I heard how they fell to nothing, in short,
They were given away ...

They are chanting now the service of All the Dead
And the village folk outside in the burying ground
Listen - except those who strive with their dead,
Reaching out in anguish, yet unable quite to touch them:
Those villagers isolated at the grave
Where the candles burn in the daylight, and the painted wreaths
Are propped on end, there, where the mystery starts.

The naked candles burn on every grave.
On your grave, in England, the weeds grow.

But I am your naked candle burning,
And that is not your grave, in England,
The world is your grave.
And my naked body standing on your grave
Upright towards heaven is burning off to you
Its flame of life, now and always, till the end.

It is my offering to you; every day is All Souls' Day.

I forget y...

Newly Translated Into English Verse By R. Martin Pope is below this original.

Hymnus Ante Somnum


        Ades Pater supreme,
    quem nemo vidit unquam,
    Patrisque sermo Christe,
    et Spiritus benigne.

        O Trinitatis huius
    vis una, lumen unum,
    Deus ex Deo perennis,
    Deus ex utroque missus.

        Fluxit labor diei,
    redit et quietis hora,
    blandus sopor vicissim
    fessos relaxat artus.

        Mens aestuans procellis
    curisque sauciata
    totis bibit medullis
    obliviale poclum.

        Serpit per omne corpus
    Lethaea vis, nec ullum
    miseris doloris aegri
    patitur manere sensum.

        Lex haec data est caducis
    Deo iubente membr...

How clear she shines! How quietly
I lie beneath her guardian light;
While heaven and earth are whispering me,
"To morrow, wake, but dream to-night."
Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love!
These throbbing temples softly kiss;
And bend my lonely couch above,
And bring me rest, and bring me bliss.

The world is going; dark world, adieu!
Grim world, conceal thee till the day;
The heart thou canst not all subdue
Must still resist, if thou delay!

Thy love I will not, will not share;
Thy hatred only wakes a smile;
Thy griefs may wound, thy wrongs may tear,
But, oh, thy lies shall ne'er beguile!
While gazing on the stars that glow
Above me, in that stormless sea,
I long to hope that all the woe
Creation knows, is held in thee!

And this s...