(Song)I said: “O let me sing the praiseOf her who sweetly racks my days,— Her I adore;Her lips, her eyes, her moods, her ways!”In miseries of pulse and pangI strung my harp, and straightway sang As none before:—To wondrous words…
(Song)I’ve never gone to Donaghadee,That vague far townlet by the sea;In Donaghadee I shall never be:Then why do I sing of Donaghadee,That I know not in a faint degree? . . .—Well, once a woman wrote to meWith a tender…
Too late, too late! I did not know my fairness Would catch the world’s keen eyes so!How the men look at me! My radiant rareness I deemed not they would prize so!That I was a peach for any man’s possession…
A race with the sun as he downed I ran at evetide,Intent who should first gain the ground And there hide.He beat me by some minutes then, But I triumphed anon,For when he’d to rise up again I stayed on.
How much shall I love her?For life, or not long? “Not long.”Alas! When forget her?In years, or by June? “By June.”And whom woo I after?No one, or a throng? “A throng.”Of these shall I wed oneLong hence, or quite soon?…
(Durlston Head) Lend me an ear While I read you hereA page from your history, Old cliff—not known To your solid stone,Yet yours inseparably. Near to your crown There once sat downA silent listless pair; And the sunset ended, And…
Why want to go afar Where pitfalls are, When all we swains adore Your featness more and moreAs heroine of our artless masquings here,And count few Wessex’ daughters half so dear? Why paint your appealing face, When its born grace…
We knew it was not a valid thing,And only sanct in the sight of God(To use your phrase), as with fervent nodYou swore your assent when I placed the ringOn your pale slim hand. Our whisperingWas soft as the fan…
IRetty used to shake her head, Look with wicked eye;Say, ‘I’d tease you, simple Ned, If I cared to try!’Then she’d hot-up scarlet red, Stilly step away,Much afraid of what she’d said Sounded bold to say. IIRetty used to think…
A yawning, sunned concave Of purple, spread as an ocean wave Entroughed on a morning of swell and swayAfter a night when wind-fiends have been heard to rave: Thus was the Heath called ‘Draäts’, on an August day. Suddenly there…
