A Handful of Honeysuckle

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C. Kegan Paul, 1878 - 88 pages
 

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Page 25 - The birds for welcome sang, or warning, And with their singing morning came. Along the gold-green heavens drifted Pale wandering souls that shun the light, Whose cloudy pinions, torn and rifted, Had teat the bars of Heaven all night.
Page 63 - LOVE'S EPIPHANY. TREAD softly here — for Love has passed this way ! Ay, even while I laughed to scorn His name And mocked aloud : There is no Love ! Love came. The air was glorious with an added day, I saw the heavens opened far away, And forth with bright blown hair and eyes a-flame. With lyre-shaped wings, filled with the wind's acclaim, Flew Love and deigned a moment here to stay. I fell upon my face and cried in fear, Oh Love ! Love ! Love ! my King and God ! But when I look'd He was no longer...
Page 65 - But when he came he found it cold and poor. Harsh and unlovely, where each prosperous boor Held poets light for all their heavenly birth, He thought — Myself can make one better worth The living in than this — full of old lore, Music and light and love, where Saints adore And Angels, all within mine own soul's girth. But when at last he came to die, his soul Saw Earth (flying past to Heaven) with new love, And all the unused passion in him cried : O God, your Heaven I know and weary of. Give...
Page 24 - Say, have they settled over there, Which is the loveliest Guinevere, Or Gloriana, or the fair Young Queen of Oberon's Court ? And does Titania torment still Mike Drayton and sweet-throated Will ? In sooth of her amours 'twas ill To make such merry sport. Ah, I have been too long away ! No doubt I shall return some day, But now I'm lost in love and may Not leave my lady's sight. Mine is, (of course), the happier lot Yet — tell them I forget them not, My pretty gay compatriot, When you go home to-night.
Page 84 - Since I can never come again When I am dead and gone from here." All the night and all the day I think upon her lying dead, With lips that neither kiss nor pray All the night nor all the day, In that dark grave whose only ray Of sun or moon 's her golden head.
Page 76 - Cxsar makes no king obey, And fast asleep lies Lascaris; Who fears the Goths or Khan-Yenghiz? Not one of all the paynim train Can taunt us with Nicopolis, Now all your victories are in vain. What reck you Spartan heroes, pray, Of Arcady or Argolis? When one barbarian boy to-day Would fain be king of all of Greece. Brave knights, you would not stir I wis, Altho' the very Cross were ta'en; Not Rome itself doth Caesar miss, Now all your victories are in vain.
Page 65 - SONNET. GOD sent a poet to reform His earth. But when he came and found it cold and poor, Harsh and unlovely, where each prosperous boor Held poets light for all their heavenly birth, He thought — Myself can make one better worth The living in than this — full of old lore, Music and light and love, where Saints adore And Angels, all within mine own soul's girth.
Page 34 - Farewell the long continued ache, The days a-dream, the nights awake, I will rejoice and merry make, And never more complain. King Love is dead and gone for aye, Who ruled with might and main, For with a bitter word one day, I found my tyrant slain, And he in Heathenesse was bred, Nor ever was baptized...
Page 76 - Fell dead i' the sea at Salamis, You captors of Thyreatis, Who bear yourselves a heavier chain, With your young brother, Bozzaris, Now all your victories are in vain. And never Roman armies may Rouse Hannibal where now he is, When Caesar makes no king obey, And fast asleep lies Lascaris ; Who fears the Goths or Khan-Yenghiz ? Not one of all the paynim train Can taunt us with Nicopolis, Now all your victories are in vain. What reck you Spartan heroes, pray, Of Arcady or Argolis ? When one barbarian...
Page 83 - Since I am her's and she is mine We live in Love and fear no change ! For Love is God, so we divine, Since I am her's and she is mine. In some fair love-land far and fine Through golden years our feet shall range. Since I am her's and she is mine We live in Love and fear no change ! VIII. Why dost thou look so pale, my Love? Why dost thou sigh and say Farewell ? " These myrtles seem a cypress grove...

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