Lines Composed For J.M. (Peter John Allan Poems)
COMPOSED FOR MY DEAR LITTLE FRIEND, J. M., WHO WISHED ME TO WRITE "ABOUT FAIRIES." I sing of those bright little creatures Not ...
COMPOSED FOR MY DEAR LITTLE FRIEND, J. M., WHO WISHED ME TO WRITE "ABOUT FAIRIES." I sing of those bright little creatures Not ...
"Roma! Roma! Roma!Non ? pi? come era prima!"ITo-morrow I will be in Rome, and thou Within thy village. I can ...
Long time beside the squatter's gate A great grey Box-Tree, early, late, Or shine or rain, in silence there Had ...
ACT V.SCENE I. A Room in DON TOMMASO'S House. ANNICCA discovered, attired in mourning. Enter DON TOMMASO.DON TOMMASO.If he still ...
Beside the pounding cataracts Of midnight streams unknown to us 'Tis builded in the leafless tracts And valleys huge of Tartarus. Lurid and lofty and vast it seems; It hath no rounded name that rings, But I have heard it called in dreams The City of the End of Things. Its roofs and iron towers have grown None knoweth how high within the night, But in its murky streets far down A flaming terrible and bright Shakes all the stalking shadows there, Across the walls, across the floors, And shifts upon the upper air From out a thousand furnace doors; And all the while an awful sound Keeps roaring on continually, And crashes in the ceaseless round Of a gigantic harmony. Through its grim depths re-echoing And all its weary height of walls, With measured roar and iron ring, The inhuman music lifts and falls. Where no thing rests and no man is, And only fire and night hold sway; The beat, the thunder and the hiss Cease not, and change not, night nor day. And moving at unheard commands, The abysses and vast fires between, Flit figures that with clanking hands Obey a hideous routine; They are not flesh, they are not bone, They see not with the human eye, And from their iron lips is blown A dreadful and monotonous cry; And whoso of our mortal race Should find that city unaware, Lean Death would smite him face to face, And blanch him with its venomed air: Or caught by the terrific spell, Each thread of memory snapt and cut, His soul would shrivel and its shell Go rattling like an empty nut. It was not always so, but once, In days that no man thinks upon, Fair voices echoed from its stones, The light above it leaped and shone: Once there were multitudes of men, That built that city in their pride, Until its might was made, and then They withered age by age and died. But now of that prodigious race, Three only in an iron tower, Set like carved idols face to face, Remain the masters of its power; And at the city gate a fourth, Gigantic and with dreadful eyes, Sits looking toward the lightless north, Beyond the reach of memories; Fast rooted to the lurid floor, A bulk that never moves a jot, In his pale body dwells no more, Or mind or soul,-an idiot! But sometime in the end those three Shall perish and their hands be still, And with the master's touch shall flee Their incommunicable skill. A stillness absolute as death Along the slacking wheels shall lie, And, flagging at a single breath, The fires shall moulder out and die. The roar shall vanish at its height, And over that tremendous town The silence of eternal night Shall gather close and settle down. All its grim grandeur, tower and hall, Shall be abandoned utterly, And into rust and dust shall fall From century to century; Nor ever living thing shall grow, Nor trunk of tree, nor blade of grass; No drop shall fall, no wind shall blow, Nor sound of any foot shall pass: Alone of its accursèd state, One thing the hand of Time shall spare, For the grim Idiot at the gate Is deathless and eternal there.(Archibald Lampman)
On her bed of protracted and lingering sickness. ONCE again, long silent lyre,Sound beneath this weary finger,Speak--but breathe with holy ...
Hence a while, severer Muses;Spare your slaves till drear October.Hence; for Alma Mater choosesNot to be for ever sober:But, like ...
Grand shone the Milky Way on high, With brilliant span athwart the sky, Nor promise gave of rain. King ...
Made at the ' Cock.' Alfred, headwaiter at the ' Cock ' * Where nowadays I dine, Go fetch me ...
Tell us a story of these Isles, they said, The daughters of the West, whose eyes had seenFor the ...
Over Sir John's hill,The hawk on fire hangs still;In a hoisted cloud, at drop of dusk, he pulls to his ...
THE EVENING BEFORE A JOURNEY.DEAR spot, where rests the mould'ring clay Of her I lov'd, farewell!My pangs these falling ...
"Dear spot, where rests the mould'ring clay Of her I lov'd farewell? The pangs, those falling tears betray, Which now ...
Pour your tears wild and free — balm best and holiest!Fallen is the lofty tree, low as the lowliest;Rent is ...
I towered far, and lo! I stood within The presence of the Lord Most High, Sent thither by the sons ...
The first Day's Night had come -- And grateful that a thing So terrible -- had been endured -- I ...
Impetuously I sprang from bed, Long before lunch was up, That I might drain the dizzy dew From the day's ...
Tho' veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath, Love is a sword that cuts its sheath, And thro' the clefts, itself has ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
Inside this northern summer's fold The fields are full of naked gold, Broadcast from heaven on lands it loves; The ...
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