Vestigia Retrorsum (George Henry Boker Poems)
There is a spot I call accursed,Because my thoughts for ever wingBack to its gloom, from whence they burst,And settle ...
There is a spot I call accursed,Because my thoughts for ever wingBack to its gloom, from whence they burst,And settle ...
Crown we our heroes with a holier wreathThan man e'er wore upon this side of death;Mix with their laurels deathless ...
CXVOh spring, that hides the wrinkled earth in green, And decorates the cracked and rugged bark Of trees with lichens ...
Know you a soul so white and inly pure That sin itself, committed by her hand, Permitted by her brain, ...
This was my lady's birthday, and yet I At dawn heard not the cannon's brazen throat, Nor saw the fluttering ...
CIVSad is it that a love as pure as thine, Which to itself is so devoid of sin, Should find ...
XVWhere is my merit? By what special grace Am I so blessed above all other men? I have some fancy, ...
I do not merit it that thou shouldst stir A step beyond the coldness of the shrine My heart has ...
It seems to mock me: all this heat and bloom, And the shrill paeans of the laureate bird; As though ...
Sweet, when thy brow becomes the haunted spot Of Death's grim heralds, care and wasting pain, And all my bitter ...
XCIXThere shines a leaf on every slender spray, The spring has found the violets in their nooks, There hides no ...
CXXIDoes not the round in which my numbers plod, These same few changes, wrung from fewer strings, This endless iteration ...
CII love you with each fibre of this frame, Sentient and moral. I have sought that spot Throughout my nature, ...
CIIMy Darling's temper is beyond compare, Tender and gentle in its will to me; Yielding so nimbly and so gracefully, ...
XVIIToo full of rapture was this sunny day! My senses ache from that through which they passed: Immortal joys were ...
IITo say I love thee, is but uttering A worn-out phrase. The opal-breasted dove Coos the same story to his ...
I wonder, Darling, if there does not wear Something from love with love's so daily use; If in the sweetness ...
Yes, I could trust, forever and a day, Thy constant heart to any worldling's wiles, Surround thy senses with the ...
CXLIWhat sorry mark of nature can there be, That stamps me false before thy partial sight, And clouds the highest ...
About myself a shadow I have wrapped; I shall no more with patience nor with ease Hear feathered minstrels shake ...
How shall I sing of thee, thyself who art A song of God's own making--perfect thought, Pearl-pure, unmatched, which the ...
I mark not seasons by the calendar; My lady's birthdays measure time to me; In spite of Julius or of ...
The fane I build on this foundation stone Which seems to me the most immortal part Of carnal nature, man's ...
I never wished for wings as yesternight, When my imprisoned darling sadly came Before her window, leaned against the frame, ...
A torpid season once in every year Falls on my nature, when in vain I wring A sullen discord from ...
These gusts of passion blown in many a mood Through heart and spirit and conceiving brain, May to my ear ...
The beams of morning flicker round my face; I start and waken, and before me lies The rising sun just ...
Now infant nature, just awaking, lies Warm in the hollow of thy matron lap, O dove-eyed Spring, and doubt might ...
When I consider what a time has flown, Shaping this planet to the thing we see, And what unnumbered ages ...
Cast on the lily's cheek the rose's glow, And while the world with morning dew is wet, Inhale the fragrance ...
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