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27 matching pages
Page 1 of 21910 · PDF PAGE 78
…Yea, love ; how cruelly we played With the poor worm that we had made ! It cannot be (it cannot be !) That we ourselves are taken In the sweet snare, my Dorothy ! Did Love, true love, awaken ? And, even so, dear, why should we Be wildly wit-forsaken ? Yea ; for we digged a wanton pit. Ourselves are fallen into it. Our dance grew fierceself-stirred, self-willed ! And Bacchus shewed his forehead Jutting sharp horns ; his grape distilled A liquor harsh and florid. Our cool sweet kisses throbbed and thrilled From temperate to torrid. Yea ; the new…
1910 · PDF PAGE 230
… YOU have so many charms ; my brain, my breast Find it surpassing hard to choose the best ; Butif I must !then let my song declare The sweet, shy rosebud in your crisp black hair !
1910 · PDF PAGE 124
114 THE SILENCE OF COLUMBINE I am the hound, sweet seer ! And you the hare I started. Shall I escape a tear, And you go broken-hearted ? VII Kiss me ! no one sees. Theregood-bye the last time ! Now, please ! Lucks ease is threes. What a kiss ! what a squeeze ! Dot the is ! cross the ts ! Half a days a vast time ! Tragedies, Comedies, Pantomime and pastime !
1910 · PDF PAGE 237
…of pine ! Half-close your eyes, your arms upon your breast ; Banish for ever every interest ! The cradling breeze shall woo us, soft and sweet, Ruffling the waves of velvet at your feet. When solemn night of swart oaks shall prevail Voice our despair, musical nightingale !
1910 · PDF PAGE 43
THE WIZARD WAY 33 Sweeter than the bee-sweet showers In the chalice of the flowers, More intoxicating than All the purple grapes of Pan. Ah ! my proper lips are stilled. Only, all the world is filled With the echo, that drips over Like the honey from the clover. Passion, penitence, and pain Seek their mothers womb again, And are born the triple treasure, Peace and purity and pleasure. Hush, my child, and come aloft Where the stars are velvet soft !
1910 · PDF PAGE 233
223 LINVITATION AU VOYAGE MY sister, my child, How sweet to the wild To travel and live there together ! At leisure to lie, To love and to die In thine own strange native weather ! The watery suns Of those hot horizons Have the mystical charm of the years That mysterious lies In thy traitorous eyes As they glitter behind their tears. There, all is peace and ecstasy ; Pleasure, calm, and luxury ! Furniture fine That the years make shine Shall stand in our own bedchamber. The rarest flowers Shed their scented showers To tinge the vague rapture o…
1910 · PDF PAGE 155
145 AD FIDELEM INFIDELEM AH, sweet my sister ! Was it idle toil, When in the flowerless Eden of Shanghai We made immortal mischief, you and I Casting our flame-flowers on the dull brown soil ? Did we not light a lamp withouten oil Nursed by unfruitful kisses, stealthily Strewn in the caldron where our Destiny Bides broodingMother, bid its brew to boil ! Ah, Sweetheart, we were barren as Sahara, But on Sahara burns our subtle star. Soon an oasis, now too lone and far, Shall bloom with all the blossoms of Bokhara : See ! oer the brim the my…
1910 · PDF PAGE 75
…one, the spell is broke, And marred the merry measure ! Yea ; my small kiss is somehow worth The love of all the boys on earth ! The shy sweet smiles, the tender eyes And bodies slim that woo me ;
1910 · PDF PAGE 152
…MEMORIAM E. R. et E. H. STRIP, dear ! Naked-pure you lie Surely we are done with dreams ! Open to the worlds wide eye ! Let them know, sweet, how it seems (To a love like ours) to die ! So, dear ! Virginal you were When I touched your life with song ; Virgin now to death lie there ! You shall not await him long. (Fold your body in your hair !) Satan, hail ! our consecration ! Lilies, lilies : let them swathe you, Robes baptismal of damnation ! Tuberose and iris bathe you In the sea, annihilation ! All white flowers I build, a fane Fit to shro…
1910 · PDF PAGE 77
…trange play of Pan For Gods and fiends ; but not for man ! Unlessunlessunlessunless Our priestly hands were steaming With other life (sweet murderess !) That his that lay there screaming Between our knivesOr blood ! confess The truth ; or am I dreaming ? Yea ; floating on that cold pale flood Were two red stars of our own blood. We left our laugh, a smouldering coal Upon his naked middle : We ravelled out his love ; we stole His heart-strings for our fiddle : Strange tortured music from his soul We wrung, a writhing riddle ! Yea : our mouth…
1910 · PDF PAGE 123
…, A flame, a waif, a wonder. A lioness in her lair Your body leaps from under. V Take the prize on trust ! Dare the course and run it ! Sweet knight, you win the just, Your thrust ! a gust of lust ! Ah, God, then, if you must Wordless still, weve won it ! Tall Troy is in the dust ! Weve done it, done it, done it ! VI Do you love me, dear ? Said the glance you darted. Good cheer ! why fear the year ! Twice one is two, I hear !
1910 · PDF PAGE 11
…mine, be mine, Were I but man enough To endure the rapture of that sudden sun The knowledge of your love, The assumption of me into that sweet shrine Whose godhead duly knows Only the one wind of the utmost heaven Through hyacinthine deeps Down from the sapphirine steeps
1910 · PDF PAGE 153
IN MEMORIAM 143 Are you ready, sweet ? Then fold Once your arms about me, cling Close and clip me as old In the presence of the King That awaits us. Love is bold. We are witnessby our fate To one poetis there one ? That beyond the miry weight Of the fog there shines a sun ! Be he comforted thereat ! . . . . . . Yea ! I chant your mastery ! In the hag-ridden, mange-bitten, Sodden, superstitious sty That John Milton made of Britain In the twentieth century, Two in blood the runes have written How to love and how to die ! Praise, O Martyrs ! …
1910 · PDF PAGE 60
…aight to the steady ray Of the Lion-heart Lord I career, Pointing my flaming way With the spasm of night for a spear ! O moon ! O secret sweet ! Chalcedony clouds of caresses About the flame of our feet, The night of our terrible tresses ! It is a wonder, then If the people are mad with blindness, And nothing is stranger to men Than silence, and wisdom, and kindness ? Nay ! let him fashion an arrow Whose heart is sober and stout !
1910 · PDF PAGE 223
… of wind and rain. She came, poor silly devil ! Pist ! We are all more or less insane. She was still beautiful, although So tired. Still sweet ! still pale ! still shy ! I loved her overmuchand so Out of this life you go ! said I. No one can understand me. None Of these dull drunkards could divine In nightmares this that I have done To make a winding-sheet of wine ! This black invulnerable vice Engines of iron ! towers of stone ! For winters blight or summers spice True love, true love hath never known True love with black inchauntme…
1910 · PDF PAGE 72
…hast made Thee man ; Thou hast loved and suffered, died and risen ; Buthath Thy mouth grown white and wan, Sucked out into that strange sweet prison Nay, Thou hast never kissed the mouth Of Dorothy ! as I ! as I ! Thou hast never felt its eager growth Upon my Lesbian ecstasy. Therefore I curse Thee not, accurst Who art in that one flower foregone And I the last match Thee the first When that red mouth I fasten on.
1910 · PDF PAGE 47
THE GARDEN OF JANUS 37 VII I rose to seek him. First my footsteps faint Pressed the starred moss ; but soon I wandered, like some sweet sequestered saint, Into the wood, my mind. The moon Was staggered by the trees ; with fierce constraint Hardly one ray Pierced to the ragged earth about their roots that lay. VIII I wandered, crying on my Lord. I wandered Eagerly seeking everywhere. The stores of life that on my lips he squandered Grew into shrill cries of despair, Until the dryads frightened and dumfoundered Fled into space Like to a demon-ki…
1910 · PDF PAGE 24
… like limbs of a young fawn For lithenessO ! for innocence of sin His eyes burned wondrous bright, his sun-crowned head Danced with its sweet and sacred hopes, So that he paced the enamelled slopes
1910 · PDF PAGE 14
…s Some young true God, or spoiled the sacrifice, And were but dead as any man is dead ! So I have given up my inmost life Even unto you, sweet wife, Carelessyet conscious of the babe-stirred womb Of some dread Mother older than the Tomb, Wiser than Life, more pitiful than Death.
1910 · PDF PAGE 144
…rifying pain, Turning all life to a thing fouler than Aught yet imaginable to man ! Who asks me for my tears ? She flings the body of my sweet dead child Into my face with hells own epitaph, Profanes that shrine Of infinite love and infinite loss, My empty shrine, the one shrine undefiled, My one close-claspèd cross And hers as much as mine ! Profanes it with a hideous laugh And a lie flung with a curse ; and I must hear, And must not stamp on the snake, because, forsooth This was my love, my peace, my faith, my truth, The rosebud of my youth…