For a Novel of Hall Caine’s
After Kipling
HE sits in a sea-green grotto with a bucket of lurid paint,
And draws the Thing as it isn’t for the God of things as they ain’t.
More poems by Robert Bridges
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I Have Loved Flowers That Fade
I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made … -
Asian Birds
In this May-month, by grace
of heaven, things shoot apace.
The waiting multitude … -
“So sweet love seemed”
So sweet love seemed that April morn,
When first we kissed beside the thorn,
So strangely sweet, it was not strange … -
“The Unillumined Verge”
To a Friend Dying
THEY tell you that Death ’s at the turn of the road,
That under the shade of a cypress you ’ll find him, …