In The Cathedral (Edward Dowden Poems)
THE altar-lights burn low, the incense-fumeSickens: O listen, how the priestly prayerRuns as a fenland stream; a dim despairHails through ...
THE altar-lights burn low, the incense-fumeSickens: O listen, how the priestly prayerRuns as a fenland stream; a dim despairHails through ...
AND didst thou know indeed, when at the fontTogether with thy name thou gav'st me his,That also on thy son ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
AN INDIAN LEGEND. (MAHADEVA is one of the numerous ...
Most Holy Night, that still dost keep The keys of all the doors of sleep, To me when my tired ...
THEY pass before me, these Eyes full of light, Eyes made magnetic by some angel wise; The holy brothers pass ...
I. Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak, ``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' ...
LIFE ne'er exulted in so rich a prize, As Burnet, lovely from her native skies; Nor envious death so triumph'd ...
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: Cuchulain ...
A man came slowly from the setting sun, To Emer, raddling raiment in her dun, And said, 'I am that ...
Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke, High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our ...
YE learned sisters, which have oftentimes Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull ...
WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time, The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, All ready to ...
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In ...
"Fate snatch'd him early to the pitying sky." - POPE. IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign'd, Can claim ...
FLOW soft RIVER, gently stray, Still a silent waving tide O'er thy glitt'ring carpet glide, While I chaunt my ROUNDELAY, ...
Old MISTRESS GURTON had a Cat, A Tabby, loveliest of the race, Sleek as a doe, and tame, and fat ...
ENLIGHTEN'D Patron of the sacred Lyre? Whose ever-varying, ever-witching song Revibrates on the heart With magic thrilling touch, Till ev'ry ...
SWEET BIRD OF SORROW! why complain In such soft melody of Song, That ECHO, am'rous of thy Strain, The ling'ring ...
Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remained At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen Him whom they heard so late ...
Tanagra! think not I forget Thy beautifully-storey'd streets; Be sure my memory bathes yet In clear Thermodon, and yet greets ...
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