As a perfume doth remain
In the folds where it hath lain,
18 lines, 1 comment
That day a fire was in my blood;
I could have sung: joy wrapt me round;
49 lines
Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums,
Dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting:
20 lines
The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
12 lines
Miraculous silver-work in stone
Against the blue miraculous skies,
10 lines
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
20 lines
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
24 lines, 5 comments
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
9 lines
They pass upon their old, tremulous feet,
Creeping with little satchels down the street,
50 lines, 1 comment
Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?
How soft is this one, how subtle this is,
15 lines
IT was a day of sun and rain,
Uncertain as a child’s swift moods;
29 lines
The boats go out and the boats come in
Under the wintry sky;
12 lines
The feverish room and that white bed,
The tumbled skirts upon a chair,
17 lines, 6 comments
The grey-green stretch of sandy grass,
Indefinitely desolate;
12 lines, 4 comments
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
15 lines, 1 comment
The light of our cigarettes
Went and came in the gloom:
9 lines
Here in the little room
You sleep the sleep of innocent tired youth,
18 lines, 1 comment
Water and marble and that silentness
Which is not broken by a wheel or hoof;
8 lines
Shake out your hair about me, so,
That I may feel the stir and scent
12 lines
Behind the door, beyond the light,
Who is it waits there in the night?
20 lines
Why is it I remember yet
You, of all women one has met
65 lines, 4 comments
O water, voice of my heart, crying in the sand,
All night long crying with a mournful cry,
12 lines
But to have lain upon the grass
One perfect day, one perfect hour,
18 lines
Peace waits among the hills;
I have drunk peace,
22 lines
As a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain,
19 lines
I am the torch, she saith, and what to me If the moth die of me? I am the flame
20 lines
I broider the world upon a loom,
I broider with dreams my tapestry;
16 lines
I have laid sorrow to sleep;
Love sleeps.
18 lines, 1 comment
I have loved colours, and not flowers;
Their motion, not the swallows wings;
18 lines, 1 comment
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
23 lines
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