Long I fought the driving lists,
Plume a-stream and armor clanging;
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Accursed from their birth they be
Who seek to find monogamy,
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The bird that feeds from off my palm
Is sleek, affectionate, and calm,
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So delicate my hands, and long,
They might have been my pride.
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So take my vows and scatter them to sea;
Who swears the sweetest is no more than human.
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For one, the amaryllis and the rose;
The poppy, sweet as never lilies are;
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Dear dead Victoria
Rotted cosily;
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My garden blossoms pink and white,
A place of decorous murmuring,
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And if, my friend, you'd have it end,
There's naught to hear or tell.
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"So surely is she mine," you say, and turn
Your quick and steady mind to harder things-
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Half across the world from me
Lie the lands I'll never see-
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Secrets, you said, would hold us two apart;
You'd have me know of you your least transgression,
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There's many and many, and not so far,
Is willing to dry my tears away;
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Tonight my love is sleeping cold
Where none may see and none shall pass.
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I shall come back without fanfaronade
Of wailing wind and graveyard panoply;
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If I should labor through daylight and dark,
Consecrate, valorous, serious, true,
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She's passing fair; but so demure is she,
So quiet is her gown, so smooth her hair,
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And let her loves, when she is dead,
Write this above her bones:
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Lady, if you'd slumber sound,
Keep your eyes upon the ground.
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God's acre was her garden-spot, she said;
She sat there often, of the Summer days,
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I'm sick of embarking in dories
Upon an emotional sea.
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Because your eyes are slant and slow,
Because your hair is sweet to touch,
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Unseemly are the open eyes
That watch the midnight sheep,
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Lady, lady, should you meet
One whose ways are all discreet,
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The friends I made have slipped and strayed,
And who's the one that cares?
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No more my little song comes back;
And now of nights I lay
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When I was bold, when I was bold-
And that's a hundred years!-
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Then let them point my every tear,
And let them mock and moan;
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Carlyle combined the lit'ry life
With throwing teacups at his wife,
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Upon the work of Walter Landor
I am unfit to write with candor.
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