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E. Mathews & J. Lane, 1893 - Poetry - 81 pages
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Page 50 - Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness: Never did any milk of hers once bless My thirsting mouth. Nigh and nigh draws the chase, With unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy; And past those noised Feet A Voice comes yet more fleet — "Lo! naught contents thee, who content'st not Me.
Page 21 - How should I gauge what beauty is her dole, Who cannot see her countenance for her soul, As birds see not the casement for the sky ? And, as 'tis check they prove its presence by, I know not of her body till I find My flight debarred the heaven of her mind.
Page 51 - And is thy earth so marred, Shattered in shard on shard? Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!
Page 46 - I fled Him down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. But with unhurrying chase, And unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat— and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet— "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.
Page 3 - DAVIDSON (JOHN). PLAYS : An Unhistorical Pastoral ; A Romantic Farce ; Bruce, a Chronicle Play ; Smith, a Tragic Farce ; Scaramouch in Naxos, a Pantomime, with a Frontispiece and Cover Design by AUBREY BEARDSLEY.
Page 46 - I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days ; I fled Him, down the arches of the years...
Page 47 - I pleaded, outlaw-wise, By many a hearted casement, curtained red, Trellised with intertwining charities (For, though I knew His love Who followed, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside); But, if one little casement parted wide, The gust of His approach would clash it to: Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue. Across the margent of the world I fled, And troubled the gold gateways of the stars, Smiting for shelter on their clanged bars; Fretted to dulcet jars And...
Page 76 - mid men my needless head, And my fruit is dreams, as theirs is bread : The goodly men and the sun-hazed sleeper Time shall reap, but after the reaper The world shall glean of me, me the sleeper. Love, love! your flower of withered dream In leaved rhyme lies safe, I deem, Sheltered and shut in a nook of rhyme, From the reaper man, and his reaper Time. Love! 7 fall into the claws of Time: But lasts within a leaved rhyme All that the world of me esteems — My withered dreams, my withered dreams.
Page 50 - The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist ; Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist, Are yielding ; cords of all too weak account For earth, with heavy griefs so overplussed. Ah ! is Thy love indeed A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed, Suffering no flowers except its own to mount ? Ah! must — Designer infinite ! — : Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it ? My freshness spent its wavering shower i...
Page 63 - And the harebell shakes on the windy hillO the breath of the distant surf! — The hills look over on the South, And southward dreams the sea; And, with the sea-breeze hand in hand, Came innocence and she. Where 'mid the gorse the raspberry Red for the gatherer springs, Two children did we stray and talk Wise, idle, childish things.

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