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Sometimes she is a child within mine arms,
With still tears showering and averted face,Inexplicably filled with faint alarms:And oft from mine own spirit’s hurtling harmsI crave the refuge of her deep embrace,—Against all ills the fortified strong placeAnd sweet reserve of sovereign counter-charms.And Love, our light at night and shade at noon,Lulls us to rest with songs, and turns awayAll shafts of…
That lamp thou fill’st in Eros’ name to-night,
To-morrow, and for drowned Leander’s sakeTo Anteros its fireless lip shall plight.Aye, waft the unspoken vow: yet dawn’s first lightOn ebbing storm and life twice ebb’d must break;While ‘neath no sunrise, by the Avernian Lake,Lo where Love walks, Death’s pallid neophyte.That lamp within Anteros’ shadowy shrineShall stand unlit (for so the gods decree)Till some one…
What smouldering senses in death’s sick delay
Can rob this body of honour, or denudeThis soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?For lo! even now my lady’s lips did playWith these my lips such consonant interludeAs laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooedThe half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.I was a child beneath her touch,—a manWhen breast to breast we clung, even I…
To all the spirits of Love that wander by
My lady lies apparent; and the deepCalls to the deep; and no man sees but I.The bliss so long afar, at length so nigh,Rests there attained. Methinks proud Love must weepWhen Fate’s control doth from his harvest reapThe sacred hour for which the years did sigh.First touched, the hand now warm around my neckTaught memory…
What shall be said of this embattled day
By all thy foes beleaguered,—now when sightNor sound denotes the loved one far away?Of these thy vanquished hours what shalt thou say,—As every sense to which she dealt delightNow labours lonely o’er the stark noon-heightTo reach the sunset’s desolate disarray?Stand still, fond fettered wretch! while Memory’s artParades the Past before thy face, and luresThy spirit…