Fairy-Lanter (Clark Ashton Smith Poems)
'Tis said these blossom-lanterns lightThe elves upon their midnight-way;That fairy toil and elfin playReceive their beams of magic white.I marvel ...
'Tis said these blossom-lanterns lightThe elves upon their midnight-way;That fairy toil and elfin playReceive their beams of magic white.I marvel ...
Sweet Lesbia,when our love is done,Leave no reproachful shade or blot,No least reproof, on all or aughtThat made us twain, ...
The cherry-snows are falling now;Down from the blossom-clouded skyOf zephyr-troubled twig and bough,In widely settling whirls they fly.The orchard earth, ...
O dancer with the dove-swift feet and hands,So palely swayingAgainst the moon's replenished rondure,Thou treadest not this autumn ground alone:But ...
Who fares to find the sunset ere it fly,Turning to light and fire the further west,Shall have the veils of ...
The thought of death to meIs like a well in some oasis dim-Cool-hidden, hushed, and hidden gratefullyAmong the palms asleepAt ...
This separation cleaveth to the core. . . .Even in slumber I am fatedTo seek thee in vast throngs and ...
What hast thou seen, O wind,Of beauty or of terror,Surpassing, denied to us,That with precipitate wings,Mad and ecstatical,Thou spurnest the ...
O mouth by many kissed,O heart that all might capture!How art thou fain and mournfulFor love that love has missed-For ...
I write the poems downLine by line from old anthologiesPrinted on the air and ether,Shelved amid the leaves of trees,Between ...
Sleep is a pathless labyrinth,Dark to the gaze of moons and suns,Through which the exile clue of dreams,A gossamer thread, ...
All that I rememberFrom a dim and verdant springLong deadIs, that one bright mouche of redPatched a blackbird's wing.(Clark Ashton ...
Half-ignorant ribaldries,Outrageous drolleriesOf infant Rabelais.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Black are the berriesLaden with slumberOf nights that have no number.(Clark Ashton Smith)
With lowered lids, you nod:Somewhere in the gardenLurks the garden-god.(Clark Ashton Smith)
In what winter shrewd, morose,Did he cower closeTo the manzanita-blaze?(Clark Ashton Smith)
In the boulder's topThe time-hollowed basinFills with rain, drop by drop.(Clark Ashton Smith)
My lone heart afarTrails the geese no longer heardBelow the northern star.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Glossy-backed, the crowsWard the garden-rows:One turns to watch the farmer.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Where nights are one with daysI roam the empty stony mazeThat stalled the Minotaur.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Penned beside the abatoir,Stridently they moo and bellowTo the night-bringing star.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Porcelain-white, the flicker's eggsLined the bottom of the holeIn the pine's dead bole.(Clark Ashton Smith)
Fragrant were the embracesThat I shared with youWhere the wild mint grew.Clark Ashton Smith(Clark Ashton Smith)
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