The Butterfly (Clark Ashton Smith Poems)
IO wonderful and wing?d flower,That hoverest in the garden-close,Finding, in mazes of the rose,The rapture of a summer hour !O ...
IO wonderful and wing?d flower,That hoverest in the garden-close,Finding, in mazes of the rose,The rapture of a summer hour !O ...
Rathe summer had sered the grass in which he layUnder the little shadeThe live-oak made,While things remembered and foregone,Loves from ...
IThe incognizable kings of Night, within their unrevealed abyssHave built them a metropolis against the kingdoms of the light.Its mountain-passing ...
Exalt thyself: be more than man,Be saint or be magician,And where the burning Sword awaitsDefy the old seraphic ban.Thy will, ...
Our blood is swayed by sunken moonsAnd lulled by midnights long foredone;We waken to a foundered sunIn Atlantean afternoons:Our blood ...
Thine eyes are opals through some veiling vapor seen:Mysterious changeful, are they blue or grey or green?Dream they of death ...
White Beauty, bending from a throne sublime,Hath claimed my lips with kisses keen as snow:Now through my harp the tremors ...
The imperishable phantoms, Love and Fame,Nor Beauty, burning on the mist and mireA fugitive uncapturable fire,Nor God, that is a ...
Sweet Lesbia,when our love is done,Leave no reproachful shade or blot,No least reproof, on all or aughtThat made us twain, ...
The thought of death to meIs like a well in some oasis dim-Cool-hidden, hushed, and hidden gratefullyAmong the palms asleepAt ...
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