She was unworthy her high martyr’s rage,
Or to be wholly purified by fire.
O Rome, thy ways are narrow and aspire
Too straitly for the knees of this halt age,
And, with the multitude, her forces tire,
Even while she holds thee fast, her heritage.
Path of sublime perfection upon Earth!
Your’s is it in the clamour of vain days
To guard the calm eternal of Man’s birth
And like an eagle to renew his days.
Give me your blessing, angels, ere I go,
Angels that guard the bridge of Angelo.
The sleeping treason of some false misprision,Some silent mystery of shortened breath,Not dead in truth for ever and to him,Or to that other life his dream foretold:–Her murderers these. And in his heart the whimRose he should draw her from her cincture cold,And set his lips upon her lips once more,And free her spirit thus…
Dissemble further, and I suffer pain,A palpable distinct and physical ache,When our eyes meet by accident, and whenI hear you talk in your pathetic strainWhich always moved me. Only yesterday,As I was standing with a crowd of menIn the long corridor, you came my wayAnd chanced to stop, and thus by chance I heardA score…
Ours who so loved her laughter, ours who at thought of itShrink from a wound yet tender, wailing in vain for her.Full was her life, a well–spring, brimmed to the brink of it,Giving of its abundance alms to humanity.We, with our life’s cup empty, paused there to drink of it,Rose with our souls ennobled, purged…
Was strangely put, and who, because of thatAnd that he could not read it, died. But a short hourBefore he passed, the woman who stood by,Weeping as once she had wept to see him born,Tired with her watching looked into his faceAnd saw the heavy eyelids dropping downLoaded with sleep. And she, for all her…
If my beloved shall return to greet me,Deeds shall be done for her none ever did.My beloved loved me. How shall I reveal it?We were alone that morning in the street.She looked down at the ground, and blushed, and trembled.She stopped me with her eyes when these did meet.“What wouldst thou, sweet one? What wouldst…
Where neither Kings nor constables should be,Nor any law of Man, alas, or God.Freedom, Equality and Brotherhood,These were my quarries which eternallyFled from my footsteps fast as I pursued,Sad phantoms of desire by land and sea.See, it is ended. Sick and overborneBy foes and fools, and my long chase, I lie.Here, in these walls, with…
