A Brother Of The Battuti (Arthur Symons Poems)
Shed, sinful flesh, these tears of blood,For all thy vileness all too few;Wash out, O holy healing flood,The sins that ...
Shed, sinful flesh, these tears of blood,For all thy vileness all too few;Wash out, O holy healing flood,The sins that ...
Only to live, only to beIn Venice, is enough for me.To be a beggar, and to lieAt home beneath the ...
If I could know but when and whyThis piece of thoughtless dust beginsTo think, and straightway I am I,And these ...
THE BODY Call in the dancers. THE SOUL All is vain. We live, and living is the pain We die ...
To SAROJINI NAIDU A YOUTH OF SHEBA. THE QUEEN OF SHEBA. THE HERALD. ...
FAUSTUS Why am I fettered with eternal change? I follow after changeless love, and find Nothing but change; I seek, ...
I Love now, my heart, there is but now to love; Seek nothing more, but let it be enough That ...
I dreamed that the Chimaera came, A wandering angel, white with flame From some cloud's height or moonless deep, And ...
OTHO A word, Poppaea! POPPAEA I will speak with you If you will speak for kindness; but your brows Are ...
These are the women whom no man has loved. Year after year, day after day has moved These hearts with ...
I pray to the old kindness of the Earth, Which is a spirit moving in the world, Closer to life ...
O broken, old, weary desire of life, Unquenchable flame of desire, That wakens, like a well-nigh waited fire, Now in ...
God is; and because life omnipotent Gives birth to life, or of itself must die, The suicide of its own ...
I There are grey hours when I drink of indifference; all things fade Into the grey of a twilight that ...
I have had enough of women, and enough of love, But the land waits, and the sea waits, and day ...
I am the torch, she saith, and what to meIf the moth die of me? I am the flameOf Beauty, ...
Beloved, and Stranger to me than my foe, And nearer to me than my breath, and my peace and my ...
I have grown tired of sorrow and human tears;Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears,A naked ...
To ARNOLD DOLMETSCH A melancholy desire of ancient things Floats like a faded perfume out of the wires; Pallid lovers, ...
I lay a tattered flag before your feet In sign of conquest. Conquerors ate proud Of a rent flag: each ...
I weave the strands of the grey rope, I weave with sorrow, I weave with hope, I weave in youth, ...
There are some hours when I seem so indifferent; all things fadeTo an indifferent greyness, like that grey of the ...
Little waking hour of life out of sleep! When I consider the many million years I was not yet, and ...
O, if the world I make With these eyes be a dream And Love, that is life, but seem To ...
Who shall quench the soul's desire Of the moth, that is God's fire? Who shall with a painted cloth Stain ...
I have loved colours, and not flowers; Their motion, not the swallows wings; And wasted more than half my hours ...
My life is like a music-hall, Where, in the impotence of rage, Chained by enchantment to my stall, I see ...
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