• 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
    ...

  • I'm like some king in whose corrupted veins

    Flows agèd blood; who rules a land of rains;

    Who, young in years, is old in all distress;

    Who flees good counsel to find weariness

    Among his dogs and playthings, who is stirred

    Neither by hunting-hound nor hunting-bird;
    ...

  • Fair is the sun when first he flames above,
    Flinging his joy down in a happy beam;

    And happy he who can salute with love
    The sunset far more...

  • There shall be couches whence faint odours rise,
    Divans like sepulchres, deep and profound;

    Strange flowers that bloomed beneath diviner skies
    ...

  • Not all the beauties in old prints vignetted,
    Those worthless products of an outworn age,

    With slippered feet and fingers castanetted,
    The...