Into a leafy wood where is no throng
Of birds at noon-day, and no soft throats yield
Their music to the moon. The place is sealed,
An unclaimed sovereignty of voiceless song,
And all the unravished silences belong
To some sweet singer lost or unrevealed.
So is my soul become a silent place.
Oh, may I wake from this uneasy night
To find a voice of music manifold.
Let it be shape of sorrow with wan face,
Or Love that swoons on sleep, or else delight
That is as wide-eyed as a marigold.
Wherever his footsteps trodMy feet were wont to follow.But Oh ! it fell out one dayMy soul was so heavy with weeping,That I laid me down by the way ;And he left me while I was sleeping.And my soul awoke in the night,And I bowed my ear for his fluting,And I heard but the breath…
Balm for bruised hearts and fancies alienTo unkind truth, and drying for sad eyes.I dread the summons to that fierce assizeOf all my foes and woes, that waits me whenThou mak’st my soul the unwilling denizenOf thy dim troubled house where unrest lies.My soul is sick with dreaming, let it rest.False Sleep, thou hast conspired…
Why hast thou come to trouble my delightWith memories ? Oh ! I had clean made endOf all that time, I had made haste to sendMy soul into red places, and to lightA torch of pleasure to burn up my night.What I have woven hast thou come to rend ?In silent acres of forgetful flowers,Crowned…
White he was as the curded cream,Hair like the buttercups he had,And wet green eyes like a full chalk stream.iiHis teeth were as white as the stones that lieDown in the depths of the sun-bright river,And his lashes danced like a dragon-flyWith drops on the gauzy wings that quiver.iiiHis lips were as red as round…
A crown of orchard flowers and daffodils,Because my love is fair and white and kind.To-day the thrush has trilled her daintiest phrases,Flowers with their incense have made drunk the air,God has bent down to gild the hearts of daisies,Because my love is kind and white and fair.To-day the sun has kissed the rose-tree’s daughter,And sad…
And a sunset that splashes the clouds with goldBut my heart to summer turning.Come back, sweet summer ! come back again !I hate the snow,And the icy winds that the north lands blow,And the fall of the frozen rain.I hate the iron ground,And the Christmas roses,And the sickly day that dies when it closes,With never…
