Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!

Hast thou relumed within our eyes,Thou whom we seek, whom we shall find? . . .A certain odour on the wind,Thy hidden face beyond the west,These things have called us; on a questOlder than any road we trod,More endless than desire. . . .Far God,Sigh with thy cruel voice, that fillsThe soul with longing for…

Somewhere an `eukaleli’ thrills and criesAnd stabs with pain the night’s brown savagery.And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,Gleam like a woman’s hair, stretch out, and rise;And new stars burn into the ancient skies,Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,And still remember, a tale I have heard,…

As wine that blushes water through. And soon,Out of the gold air of the afternoon,One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,Bound back above his ears with golden wire,Baring the eager marble of his face.Not man’s nor woman’s was the immortal graceRounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,And lighting the proud eyes with…

—Oh, I’ve loved you faithfully and well,Three years, or a bit less.It wasn’t a success.Thank God, that’s done! and I’ll take the road,Quit of my youth and you,The Roman road to WendoverBy Tring and Lilley Hoo,As a free man may do.For youth goes over, the joys that fly,The tears that follow fast;And the dirtiest things…

Slowly, to one long livid oozing plainClosed down by the strange eyeless heavens. He lies;And waits; and once in timeless sick surmiseThrough the dead air heaves up an unknown hand,Like a dry branch. No life is in that land,Himself not lives, but is a thing that cries;An unmeaning point upon the mud; a speckOf moveless…

Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snowUp to the white moon’s hidden loveliness.Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,As who would pray good for the world, but knowTheir benediction empty as they bless.They say that the Dead die not, but remainNear to the rich heirs…

With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,And all the little emptiness of love!Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,Where…

And heard the waves, and the seagull’s mocking cry.And in them all was only the old cry,That song they always sing — ‘The best is over!You may remember now, and think, and sigh,O silly lover!’And I was tired and sick that all was over,And because I,For all my thinking, never could recoverOne moment of the…

Now, for a god-speed, one last mad embrace;The long road then, unlit by your faint smile.Ah! the long road! and you so far away!Oh, I’ll remember! but . . . each crawling dayWill pale a little your scarlet lips, each mileDull the dear pain of your remembered face.. . . Do you think there’s a…

The earth is crying-sweet,And scattering-bright the air,Eddying, dizzying, closing round,With soft and drunken laughter;Veiling all that may befallAfter — after —Where Beauty and Beauty met,Earth’s still a-tremble there,And winds are scented yet,And memory-soft the air,Bosoming, folding glints of light,And shreds of shadowy laughter;Not the tears that fill the yearsAfter — after —

I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate,Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire.Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy,But Love was as a flame about my feet;Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beatThrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry —All the great courts were quiet in…

You’ve given your love to, your adoring handsTouch his so intimately that each understands,I know, most hidden things; and when I knowYour holiest dreams yield to the stupid bowOf his red lips, and that the empty graceOf those strong legs and arms, that rosy face,Has beaten your heart to such a flame of love,That you…

All before my little room;And in my flower-beds, I think,Smile the carnation and the pink;And down the borders, well I know,The poppy and the pansy blow . . .Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,Beside the river make for youA tunnel of green gloom, and sleepDeeply above; and green and deepThe stream mysterious glides beneath,Green as…

Somewhere an `eukaleli’ thrills and criesAnd stabs with pain the night’s brown savagery.And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,Gleam like a woman’s hair, stretch out, and rise;And new stars burn into the ancient skies,Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,And still remember, a tale I have heard,…

Into the shade and loneliness and mireOf the last land! There, waiting patiently,One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing,See a slow light across the Stygian tide,And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing,And tremble. And I shall know that you have died,And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream,Pass, light as ever,…

And smiled to greet the pleasant painOf that innocent young past.But I jumped to feel how sharp had beenThe pain when it did live,How the faded dreams of Nineteen-tenWere Hell in Nineteen-five.The boy’s woe was as keen and clear,The boy’s love just as true,And the One Before the Last, my dear,Hurt quite as much as…

With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,And all the little emptiness of love!Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,Where…

Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon!Soon they returned, and, after strange adventures,Settled at Balham by the end of June.Their money was in Can. Pacs. B. Debentures,And in Antofagastas. Still he wentCityward daily; still she did abideAt home. And both were really quite contentWith work and social pleasures. Then they died.They left three children (besides George,…