Narcissus, and Other Poems

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Putnam, 1908 - American poetry - 60 pages
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Page 60 - majesty. Give me not all I asked! Thy full magnificence Reserve for heaven alone. Beware earth's impotence. Smitten with too much splendour as with too much pain, My spirit slips its leash. Oh, vain prayer, prayed in vain!
Page 59 - THE SETTING SUN ONE radiant outflash of surpassing splendour, And with the perfect peace of self-surrender, Without a tear, Without a fear, Like some high spirit summoned from our sight, The sun steps down into the unknown night.
Page 40 - A BIRTHDAY SONG OUT and away, my song. The road is long ; The time is short; For thou by break of day, my song, Must reach thy port. Hie through the night! Catch thee a star-beam for thy steed. Saddle and curb it to thy need With diamonded light. Bind the whole heavens to its feet, Then leap into thy seat
Page 43 - what glory of greenness, what lights interlacing, What softness of shadow, what bounty of spacing, What refreshment of change—aye, what beauty Elysian The sweep of that curve may deny to the vision! Oh, my soul yearns for sight! Oh, my feet long to follow,
Page 45 - A WIDE bare field neath blinding skies, Where no tree grows, no shadow lies, Where no wind stirs, where no bee flies. A roadway, even, blank and white, That swerves not left, that swerves not right, That stretches, changeless, out of sight. Footprints midway adown its dust; Two lagging, leaden feet that just Trail on and on, because they must.
Page 58 - soul— A holiest calm, a supreme ecstasy Where heaven begins and earth ceases to be,— Such, O Love, is my soul's love—my soul's love for thee!
Page 15 - height, nor willed to understand The import of his spirit's stern demand. " Youth," said they, "is the heyday time of flowers. Leave age the gathering of simples. Hours Compact of bloom and light and melody, Pertain to Pan and to Terpsichore. When Pan's pipe shivers, when the dead leaf falls,
Page 48 - stayed the shower; Make way for thy comrade with double thy dower. Halt. Halt. Halt. There was given thee grace To begin with the best and their records efface Had thy sandals been winged. Step down from the race. One swifter than thou art would run in thy place.
Page 60 - Withdraw thy glory! Lo, I sink upon the sod. Love but as mortals love! Love not as loves a god!
Page 33 - hand Dropping down dreams, slow passed she o'er the land, A perfume faint, miraculously sweet— The breath of blossoms bruised beneath her feet— Trailing like brume of incense after her; And place and time became one wide deep blur. Scarce had the Hours begun their matin flight

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