• In those old times wherein Theology

    Flourished with greater sap and energy,

    A celebrated doctor—so they say—

    Having stirred many careless hearts one day

    Down to their dullest depths, and having shown

    Strange pathways leading to the heavenly throne—

    Tracks he...

  • To pay his ransom man must toil
    With Reason's implement alone
    To plough and rake and free from stone

    Two plots of hard volcanic soil....

  • So proud your port, your arm so powerful.
    With such a grip you grip the goddess' hair,
    That one might take you, from your casual air,
    ...

  • Then I will dream of blue horizons deep;

    Of gardens where the marble fountains weep;

    Of kisses, and of ever-singing birds—

    A sinless Idyll built of innocent words.


    And Trouble, knocking at my window-pane

    And at my closet door, shall knock in vain;

    I will not heed him with his stealthy tread,...

  • I know your heart, which overflows
    With outworn loves long cast aside,

    Still like a furnace flames and glows,

    And you within your breast enclose
    A damnèd soul's unbending pride...

  • Here is a woman, richly clad and fair,

    Who in her wine dips her long, heavy hair;

    Love's claws, and that sharp poison which is sin,

    Are dulled against the granite of her skin.

    Death she defies, Debauch she smiles upon,

    For their sharp scythe-like talons every one...

  • I am as lovely as a dream in stone,

    And this my heart where each finds death in turn,

    Inspires the poet with a love as lone

    As clay eternal and as taciturn.


    Swan-white of heart, a sphinx no mortal knows,

    My throne is in the heaven's azure deep;

    I hate...

  • Thou, O my Grief, be wise and tranquil still,

    The eve is thine which even now drops down,

    To carry peace or care to human will,

    And in a misty veil enfolds the town.


    While the vile mortals of the multitude,

    By pleasure, cruel tormentor, goaded on,

    ...

  • Should dream that eagles and insects, streams and woods,

    Stand still to hear him chaunt his dolorous moods?

    Even unto us, who made these ancient things,

    The fool his public lamentation sings."


    With pride as lofty as the towering cloud,

    I would have stilled these clamouring demons loud,

    And...

  • Robed in a silken robe that shines and shakes,
    She seems to dance whene'er she treads the sod,

    Like the long serpent that a fakir makes
    ...