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
I have loved colours, and not flowers;
Their motion, not the swallows wings;
18 lines, 1 comment
Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums,
Dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting:
20 lines
The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
12 lines
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
23 lines
They weave a slow andante as in sleep,
Scaled yellow, swampy black, plague-spotted white;
18 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
I broider the world upon a loom,
I broider with dreams my tapestry;
16 lines
My life is like a music-hall,
Where, in the impotence of rage,
22 lines
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
24 lines, 5 comments
The wind is rising on the sea,
The windy white foam-dancers leap;
13 lines, 1 comment
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
9 lines
I have laid sorrow to sleep;
Love sleeps.
18 lines, 1 comment
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
But to have lain upon the grass
One perfect day, one perfect hour,
18 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
When I am old, and think of the old days, And warm my hands before a little blaze,
21 lines
Peace waits among the hills;
I have drunk peace,
22 lines
O water, voice of my heart, crying in the sand,
All night long crying with a mournful cry,
12 lines
Water and marble and that silentness
Which is not broken by a wheel or hoof;
8 lines
The feverish room and that white bed,
The tumbled skirts upon a chair,
17 lines, 6 comments
Shake out your hair about me, so,
That I may feel the stir and scent
12 lines
There are some hours when I seem so indifferent; all things fade
To an indifferent greyness, like that grey of the sky;
7 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
The little painted angels flit,
See, down the narrow staircase, where
15 lines
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