Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Pictures On Enamel
When Astraled was lying, like to dieOf love's green sickness, all his bed was strownWith buds of crocus and anemone,For other flowers yet were barely..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
On The Way To Church
There is one I know. I see her sometimes passIn the morning streets upon her way to Mass,A calm sweet woman with unearthly eyes.Men turn to look at..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
On Her Lightheartedness
I WOULD I had thy courage, dear, to faceThis bankruptcy of love, and greet despairWith smiling eyes and unconcerned embrace,And these few words of..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
On A Grave In The Forest
Hush, gentle stranger. Here lies one asleepIn the tall grass whom we must not awaken.For see, the wildest winds hush here and keepSilence for her and..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh, Fly Not, Pleasure
Oh fly not, Pleasure, pleasant--hearted Pleasure.Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay.For my heart no measureKnows nor other treasureTo buy a..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh For A Day Of Spring
Oh for a day of Spring,A day of flowers and folly,Of birds that pipe and singAnd boyhood's melancholy!I would not grudge the laughter,The tears that..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
O For A Soul
O for a soul surrendered of all guile!A plain white soul with nothing on it writ,No creed of mockery to make men smile,No boast of wisdom travestied..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Not A Word
Love, my heart is faint with waiting,Faint with hope and joy deferred,All night long at this sad grating,Sleepless like a prisoned bird,Singing..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Night On Our Lives
Night on our lives, ah me, how surely has it fallen!Be they who can deceived. I dare not look before.See, sad years, to your own; your little wealth..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
New Things Are Best
What shall I tell you, child, in this new Sonnet?Life's art is to forget, and last year's sowingCast in Time's furrow with the storm winds..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxxi
Rather I hold with those that tell it thus,That they, who had made proof of their great faith,Were joined no less with honour in love's houseBy Holy..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxx
Thus was Natalia loved and lost and won.Some say that Adrian, having gained the goalOf his long hopes, and being of those who runToo lightly for..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxviii
Away! Away! Away with her, young lover,Away with her in haste lest dawn should break;If that her kinsmen should thy deed discoverIll might it fare..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxvii
She wakes, she breathes, she rises from her bed,That bed of death where she has lain so long;The flowers they set there fall from her fair..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxvi
Yet so it was. Adrian had hardly setHis lips to those cold lips where death had been,His eyes those clammy eyelids scarce had wetWith his warm tears..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxv
Oh, miracle of love! That death, which seemsSo hard a master when he holds his prize,Whom no cajoleries, nor stratagemsOf beauty's power, nor..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxix
He bore her to his home 'twixt life and death,By mute connivance of the slumbering streets,Bore her redeemed to a new world of breathAnd peace..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxiv
And, feeling round him, lo, upon the mouldA pick and spade cast down by accident.And Adrian laughed when in those engines coldHe guessed the..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxiii
But, when the church was hushed in the night wind,And all were gone who might his zeal disclaim,Or hinder the firm purpose of his mind,A silent man..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxii
The thought of night consoled him. To his visionNatalia was dead only in false death,The sleeping treason of some false misprision,Some silent..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xxi
But when they had gone past him every one,With new resolve begotten of his dream,Adrian arose and followed where the stoneYawned for his love, and..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xx
Oh, pitiful awaking! What was Adrian's pleasure,That it had earned for him such bitterness?What his soul's pride that its new tender measureShould..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xviii
Nor were the rest astonished. Even he,Natalia's lord, in all complacent graceLooked on approving of her act when sheStepped forward with her face to..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xvii
Nor yet in vain. For to him through the routBehold, 'mid herald whispers of her nameAnd laughing eyes and welcome hands held out,Natalia's self..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet Xvi
Among the rest ('twas thus his dream went onWhile Adrian slept) in more than courteous moodAnd smiling welcome, fairer scarce was none,That noble..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt