Age: 125
6900 days old here
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Perfume
WHAT gift for passionate lovers shall we find? Not flowers nor books of verse suffice for me, But splinters of the odorous cedar-tree, And tufts of pine-buds, oozy in the wind; Give me young shoots of aromatic rind, Or samphire, redolent of sand and sea, For all such fragrances I deem to be Fit with my sharp desires to be combined. My heart is like a poet, whose one room, Scented with Latakia* faint and fine, & nbsp;[aromatic Turkish tobacco] Dried rose leaves, and spilt attar, and old wine, From curtained windows gathers its warm gloom Round all but one sweet picture, where incline His thoughts and fancies mingled with perfume.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
An Invitation
COME to the river-bank with me; For there are plumed ferns of crescent green, And in the wine-dark pools are seen The crimson-spotted trout. Hush! hush! move through the brake most silently, Vex with no loud unhallow'd shout The holy secrecy of this sweet glade, And you shall see The dipper rush with sudden flash, and fade Into the woodland screen; Nor shall you by your presence make afraid The kingfisher, who looks down dreamily At his own shadow gorgeously array'd.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
When children are playing alone on the green, In comes the playmate that never was seen. When children are happy and lonely and good, The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
Nobody heard him, and nobody saw, His is a picture you never could draw, But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home, When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, He sings when you tinkle the musical glass; Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why, The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 'T is he that inhabits the caves that you dig; 'T is he when you play with your soldiers of tin That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'T is he, when at night you go off to your bed, Bids you go to sleep and not trouble your head; For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf, 'T is he will take care of your playthings himself!
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Dawn
PRAY but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips, Think but one thought of me up in the stars. The summer night waneth, the morning light slips Faint and gray 'twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt the cloud-bars, That are patiently waiting there for the dawn: Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold Waits to float through them along with the sun. Far out in the meadows, above the young corn, The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold The uneasy wind rises; the roses are dun; Through the long twilight they pray for the dawn Round the lone house in the midst of the corn. Speak but one word to me over the corn, Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Inscription for an Old Bed
THE wind's on the wold And the night is a-cold, And Thames runs chill 'Twixt mead and hill. But kind and dear Is the old house here And my heart is warm Midst winter's harm. Rest then and rest, And think of the best 'Twixt summer and spring, When all birds sing In the town of the tree, And ye lie in me And scarce dare move, Lest the earth and its love Should fade away Ere the full of the day. I am old and have seen Many things that have been; Both grief and peace And wane and increase. No tale I tell Of ill or well, But this I say: Night treadeth on day, And for worst or best Right good is rest.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Near Avalon
A SHIP with shields before the sun,
Six maidens round the mast, A red-gold crown on every one, A green gown on the last.
The fluttering green banners there Are wrought with ladies' heads most fair, And a portraiture of Guenevere The middle of each sail doth bear.
A ship with sails before the wind, And round the helm six knights, Their heaumes are on, whereby, half blind, They pass by many sights.
The tatter'd scarlet banners there, Right soon will leave the spear-heads bare, Those six knights sorrowfully bear In all their heaumes some yellow hair.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Down in the Garden Close
My garden walks are bright in the sun; 'T is summer, the birds sing gay; The delicate vines o'er the warm earth run, And the leaves look up to the day. But of all the blossoms on the earth's broad breast, The fairest flower that grows Is the one that stands, the queen of the rest, Down in my garden close.
Down in the garden close You'll find a pure white rose. Its incense rare Fills the dreamy air, Down in the garden close.
Across the paths drift the dry leaves sere. The birds and the summer are fled, My plants are dead with the dying year, The flowers their bloom have shed; And the queen lies low in a soft, still sleep, Safe from the wintry snows, But never again will the sulight creep Down in my garden close.
Down in the garden close The wind with a wild wail goes. Its chilly gust Stirs the soft grave dust, Down in the garden close.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Written at a Farm
AROUND my porch and lowly casement spread; The myrtle never-sear, and gadding vine, With fragrant sweet-briar love to intertwine; And in my garden's box-encircled bed, The pansy pied, and musk-rose white and red, The pink and tulip, and honeyed woodbine, Fling odors round; the flaunting eglantine Decks my trim fence, 'neath which, by silence led, The wren hath wisely placed her mossy cell; And far from noise, in courtly land so rife, Nestles her young to rest, and warbles well. Here in this safe retreat and peaceful glen I pass my sober moments, far from men; Nor wishing death too soon, nor asking life.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
My Garden
A GARDEN is a lovesome thing, God wot! Rose plot, Fringed pool, Ferned grot -- The veriest school Of peace; and yet the fool Contends that God is not -- Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool? Nay, but I have a sign: 'Tis very sure God walks in mine.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Cold Change
IN the cold change which time hath wrought on love (The snowy winter of his summer prime), Should a chance sigh or sudden tear-drop move Thy heart to memory of the olden time; Turn not to gaze on me with pitying eyes, Nor mock me with a withered hope renewed; But from the bower we both have loved, arise And leave me to my barren solitude!
What boots it that a momentary flame Shoots from the ashes of a dying fire? We gaze upon the hearth from whence it came, And know the exhausted embers must expire: Therefore no pity, or my heart will break; Be cold, be careless -- for thy past love's sake!
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
We Have Been Friends Together
WE have been friends together In sunshine and in shade, Since first beneath the chestnut trees, In infancy we played. But coldness dwells within thy heart, A cloud is on thy brow; We have been friends together, Shall a light word part us now?
We have been gay together; We have laughed at little jests; For the fount of hope was gushing Warm and joyous in our breasts, But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow; We have been gay together, Shall a light word part us now?
We have been sad together; We have wept with bitter tears O'er the grass-grown graves where slumbered The hopes of early years. The voices which are silent there Would bid thee clear thy brow; We have been sad together. Oh, what shall part us now?
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
I Do Not Love Thee
I DO not love thee! No! I do not love thee! And yet when thou art absent I am sad; And envy even the bright blue sky above thee, Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
I do not love thee! yet, I know not why, Whate'er thou does seems still well done, to me -- And often in my solitude I sigh -- That those I do love are not more like thee!
I do not love thee! yet when thou art gone I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear) Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.
I do not love thee! yet thy speaking eyes, With their deep, bright and most expressive blue -- Between me and the midnight heaven arise, Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.
I know I do not love thee! yet, alas! Others will scarcely trust my candid heart; And oft I catch them smiling as they pass, Because they see me gazing where thou art.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
To John Keats Great master! Boyish, sympathetic man! Whose orbed and ripened genius lightly hung From life's slim, twisted tendril and there swung In crimson-sphered completeness; guardian Of crystal portals through whose openings fan The spiced winds which blew when earth was young, Scattering wreaths of stars, as Jove once flung A golden shower from heights cerulean. Crumbled before thy majesty we bow. Forget thy empurpled state, thy panoply Of greatness, and be merciful and near; A youth who trudged the highroad we tread now Singing the miles behind him; so may we Faint throbbings of thy music overhear
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Francis II, King of Naples Written after reading Trevelyan's "Garibaldi and the making of Italy"
Poor foolish monarch, vacillating, vain, Decaying victim of a race of kings, Swift Destiny shook out her purple wings And caught him in their shadow; not again Could furtive plotting smear another stain Across his tarnished honour. Smoulderings Of sacrificial fires burst their rings And blotted out in smoke his lost domain. Bereft of courtiers, only with his queen, From empty palace down to empty quay. No challenge screamed from hostile carabine. A single vessel waited, shadowy; All night she ploughed her solitary way Beneath the stars, and through a tranquil sea.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Market Day White, glittering sunlight fills the market square, Spotted and sprigged with shadows. Double rows Of bartering booths spread out their tempting shows Of globed and golden fruit, the morning air Smells sweet with ripeness, on the pavement there A wicker basket gapes and overflows Spilling out cool, blue plums. The market glows, And flaunts, and clatters in its busy care. A stately minster at the northern side Lifts its twin spires to the distant sky, Pinnacled, carved and buttressed; through the wide Arched doorway peals an organ, suddenly -- Crashing, triumphant in its pregnant tide, Quenching the square in vibrant harmony.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Starling "`I can't get out', said the starling." Sterne's `Sentimental Journey'
Forever the impenetrable wall Of self confines my poor rebellious soul, I never see the towering white clouds roll Before a sturdy wind, save through the small Barred window of my jail. I live a thrall With all my outer life a clipped, square hole, Rectangular; a fraction of a scroll Unwound and winding like a worsted ball. My thoughts are grown uneager and depressed Through being always mine, my fancy's wings Are moulted and the feathers blown away. I weary for desires never guessed, For alien passions, strange imaginings, To be some other person for a day.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The End Throughout the echoing chambers of my brain I hear your words in mournful cadence toll Like some slow passing-bell which warns the soul Of sundering darkness. Unrelenting, fain To batter down resistance, fall again Stroke after stroke, insistent diastole, The bitter blows of truth, until the whole Is hammered into fact made strangely plain. Where shall I look for comfort? Not to you. Our worlds are drawn apart, our spirit's suns Divided, and the light of mine burnt dim. Now in the haunted twilight I must do Your will. I grasp the cup which over-runs, And with my trembling lips I touch the rim.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Aftermath I learnt to write to you in happier days, And every letter was a piece I chipped From off my heart, a fragment newly clipped From the mosaic of life; its blues and grays, Its throbbing reds, I gave to earn your praise. To make a pavement for your feet I stripped My soul for you to walk upon, and slipped Beneath your steps to soften all your ways. But now my letters are like blossoms pale We strew upon a grave with hopeless tears. I ask no recompense, I shall not fail Although you do not heed; the long, sad years Still pass, and still I scatter flowers frail, And whisper words of love which no one hears.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Crepuscule du Matin All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the lie Which hope too long has whispered. So I sought The sleep which would not come, and night was fraught With old emotions weeping silently. I heard your voice again, and knew the things Which you had promised proved an empty vaunt. I felt your clinging hands while night's broad wings Cherished our love in darkness. From the lawn A sudden, quivering birdnote, like a taunt. My arms held nothing but the empty dawn.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
From One Who Stays How empty seems the town now you are gone! A wilderness of sad streets, where gaunt walls Hide nothing to desire; sunshine falls Eery, distorted, as it long had shone On white, dead faces tombed in halls of stone. The whir of motors, stricken through with calls Of playing boys, floats up at intervals; But all these noises blur to one long moan. What quest is worth pursuing? And how strange That other men still go accustomed ways! I hate their interest in the things they do. A spectre-horde repeating without change An old routine. Alone I know the days Are still-born, and the world stopped, lacking you.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Frankincense and Myrrh My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings Vibrate most readily to minor chords, Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words Which voice the passion and the ache of things: Illusions beating with their baffled wings Against the walls of circumstance, and hoards Of torn desires, broken joys; records Of all a bruised life's maimed imaginings. Now you are come! You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, I have no tones to answer. Far Within I kneel before you, speechless yet, And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Dreams I do not care to talk to you although Your speech evokes a thousand sympathies, And all my being's silent harmonies Wake trembling into music. When you go It is as if some sudden, dreadful blow Had severed all the strings with savage ease. No, do not talk; but let us rather seize This intimate gift of silence which we know. Others may guess your thoughts from what you say, As storms are guessed from clouds where darkness broods. To me the very essence of the day Reveals its inner purpose and its moods; As poplars feel the rain and then straightway Reverse their leaves and shimmer through the woods
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You lie upon my heart as on a nest, Folded in peace, for you can never know How crushed I am with having you at rest Heavy upon my life. I love you so You bind my freedom from its rightful quest. In mercy lift your drooping wings and go.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
To a Friend I ask but one thing of you, only one, That always you will be my dream of you; That never shall I wake to find untrue All this I have believed and rested on, Forever vanished, like a vision gone Out into the night. Alas, how few There are who strike in us a chord we knew Existed, but so seldom heard its tone We tremble at the half-forgotten sound. The world is full of rude awakenings And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground, Yet still our human longing vainly clings To a belief in beauty through all wrongs. O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Mirage How is it that, being gone, you fill my days, And all the long nights are made glad by thee? No loneliness is this, nor misery, But great content that these should be the ways Whereby the Fancy, dreaming as she strays, Makes bright and present what she would would be. And who shall say if the reality Is not with dreams so pregnant. For delays And hindrances may bar the wished-for end; A thousand misconceptions may prevent Our souls from coming near enough to blend; Let me but think we have the same intent, That each one needs to call the other, "friend!" It may be vain illusion. I'm content.
Age: 125
6900 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Fruit Garden Path The path runs straight between the flowering rows, A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom, Where phlox and marigolds dispute for room With tall, red dahlias and the briar rose. 'T is reckless prodigality which throws Into the night these wafts of rich perfume Which sweep across the garden like a plume. Over the trees a single bright star glows. Dear garden of my childhood, here my years Have run away like little grains of sand; The moments of my life, its hopes and fears Have all found utterance here, where now I stand; My eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears, You are my home, do you not understand?