Hebe’s arms were rather whiter;Languorous-lidded Helen hadEyes more blue than e’er the sky was;Lalage’s was subtler stuff;Still, you used to think that I wasFair enough.Now you’re casting yearning glancesAt the pale Penelope;Cutting in on Claudia’s dances;Taking Iris out to tea.Iole you find warm-hearted;Zoe’s cheek is far from rough-Don’t you think it’s time we parted? ….
In excelsis gloria,And R. I. P.And her shroud was buttoned neat,And her bones were clean and round,And her soul was at her feetLike a bishop’s marble hound.Albert lay a-drying,Lavishly arrayed,With his soul out flyingWhere his heart had stayed.And there’s some could tell you what landHis spirit walks serene(But I’ve heard them say in ScotlandIt’s never…
Who viewed me in a thoughtful way,And spoke me so, and spoke me thus:‘Oh, dallying’s a sad mistake;‘Tis craven to survey the morrow!Go give your heart, and if it break-A wise companion is Sorrow.‘Oh, live, my child, nor keep your soulTo crowd your coffin when you’re dead….’I asked his work; he dealt in coal,And shipped…
I, whose longing lives and diesWhere a ship has sailed away;I, that never close my eyesBut to look upon Cathay.Things I may not know nor tellWait, where older waters swell;Ways that flowered at Sappho’s tread,Winds that sighed in Homer’s strings,Vibrant with the singing dead,Golden with the dust of wings.Under deeper skies than mine,Quiet valleys dip…
I’m Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael;I’m Salome, moon of the East.Here in my soul I am Sappho;Lady Hamilton am I, as well.In me Recamier vies with Kitty O’Shea,With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.I’m of the glamorous ladiesAt whose beckoning history shook.But you are a man, and see only my pan,So I stay…
And neither you nor I was sadWhen that was through and done.But when, one day, a boy comes byAnd pleads me with your happiest vow,‘There was a lad I knew–‘ I’ll sigh,‘I do not know him now.’And when another girl shall passAnd speak a little name I said,Then you will say, ‘There was a lass-I…
Their candle gives a single light;They’d rather stay at home at night.They do not keep awake till three,Nor read erotic poetry.They never sanction the impure,Nor recognize an overture.They shrink from powders and from paints …So far, I’ve had no complaints.
Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkness is holding you;Starlight bespangles the way of your dreams.Chorus the nightingales, wistfully amorous;Blessedly quiet, the blare of the day.All the sweet hours may your visions be glamorous-Sleep, pretty lady, as long as you may.Sleep, pretty lady, the night shall be still for you;Silvered and silent, it watches you rest.Each…
And pressed my hand in theirs, and smoothed my knee,And clicked their tongues, and watched me, mournful-eyed.Gently they told me of that Other Side-How, even then, you waited there for me,And what ecstatic meeting ours would be.Moved by the lovely tale, they broke, and cried.And when I smiled, they told me I was brave,And they…
But Sorrow clings to my apron-strings,I have so much to say.
