#Decadents #English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Pale are the words I build for my… To house in; pale as the chill mis… An ardent morn. My fire to others… But dimly burns through the frail… I cast but shadows from my inward…
In the shadow of a broken house, Down a deserted street, Propt walls, cold hearths, and pha… And the silence of dead feet— Locked wildly in one another’s arm…
The wind has fal’n asleep; the bou… Is quiet; the warm sun’s gone; the… Sinks and is almost lost; Yet the April day glows on within… Happy as the white buds in the blu…
Woe to him that has not known the… Who has not felt within him burnin… Of desolated bosoms, since the wor… Felt, as his own, the burden of th… Who has not eaten failure’s bitter…
I am weary of doing and dating The day with the thing to be done, This painful self translating To a language not my own. Give me to fashion a thing;
Towering, towering up to the noon—… Up to the hot blue, up to blinding… Pillar and pinnacle, arch and corb… Flowered and tendrilled, soar, asp… The giant porch, with kings and pr…
We parted at golden dawn. I feasted my last on her eyes, And journeyed, journeyed alone: Mountains and cities and skies Hurried with cruel pace,
Coloured like Atlantic wave To whose curve the bright air gave Splendour, and the unfathomed blue Mystery of nameless hue; If to others you but shine
The Spirit of Earth, robed in gre… The Spirit of Air, robed in blue; The Spirit of Water, robed in sil… The Spirit of Fire, robed in red. Each steps forward in turn.
Strike stone on steel, Fire replies. Strike men that feel, The answer is in their eyes. Powers that are willed to break
What far—off trouble steals In soft—blown drifts of glimmering… What is it the wind feels, What sighing of what old home—seek… Among the hurried footsteps and th…
Because thou art nearest To the mystery of the fire That is Earth’s and the soul’s And the body’s desire, Whereof we were made
Through storm—blown gloom the subt… Shapes of tumultuous, ghostly clou… Trailing a dark shower from hill—d… Dawn, desolate in its majesty, is… But ere the wayside trees show lea…
From the howl of the wind As I opened the door And entered, the firelight Was soft on the floor. Mute each in their places
There is a dimness fallen on old f… Our hearts are solemnized with dea… Than Time is bright with: we have… Or read of it in books; it is our… Eyes that have seen this wonder; l…