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").
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: V
I had been an hour at Lyons. My breath comesFast when I think of it. An hour, no more,I trod those streets and listened to the drums,The mirth, the..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Lvii
This was my term of glory. All who knowSomething of life will guess untold the end.In love, one ever kisses for his woe,One lends his cheek, alas! or..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Lvi
Who has not wept with Manon? Of all talesThat thrill youth's fancy or to tears or mirthNone other is there where such grief prevails,Such passionate..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Lv
We stayed at Lyons three days, only three,In Esther's world of wonder and renown,She, glorious star, each night immortallyPlaying her Manons to the..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Liv
I must not speak of it. Even yet my heartIs but a feeble thing to fret and cry,And it might chance to wake and with a start,When nights were still..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Liii
For Esther was a woman most completeIn all her ways of loving. And with meDealt as one deals who careless of deceitAnd rich in all things is of all..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Lii
I lived with Esther, not for many days,If days be counted by the fall of nightAnd the sun's rising, yet through years of praise,If truth be timepiece..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Li
When I hear laughter from a tavern door,When I see crowds agape and in the rainWatching on tiptoe and with stifled roarTo see a rocket fired or a..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Ix
I stopped, I listened, and I entered in,With half--a--dozen more, that sight to see.``The Booth of Beauty,'' 'twas a name of sinWhich seemed..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Iv
And thus it is. The tale I have to tellIs such another. He who reads shall findThat which he brings to it of Heaven or HellFor his best recompense..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Iii
A little honey! Ay, a little sweet,A little pleasure when the years were young,A joyous measure trod by dancing feet,A tale of folly told by a loved..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: Ii
Yes, who shall tell the value of our tears,Whether we wept aright or idly grieved?There is a tragedy in unloved years,And in those passionate hours..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: I
When is life other than a tragedy,Whether it is played in tears from the first scene,In sable robes and grief's mute pageantry,For loves that died..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
El Harith
Lightly took she her leave of me, Asmá--u,went no whit as a guest who outstays a welcome;Went forgetting our trysts, Burkát Shemmá--u,all the joys of..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Don Juan’s Good-Night
Teach me, gentle Leporello,Since you are so wise a fellow,How your master I may win.Leporello answers gailySlip into his bed and way layHim; anon he..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Death In A Ball-Room
Oh many, many thus have died, alas,Children, poor things! The grave will have its prey.Some flowers must still be mown down with the grass,And in..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Dead Joys
Moan on with thy loud changeless wail,Desolate sea,Grinding thy pebbles into thankless sand.Oh, could I lash my angry heart like theeUntil it broke..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Couplets In Praise
Poet of love, I sing here my whole soul to you.Ah, might I all deeds dare, love would I prove to you.Make I at least your praise, chaplet of sunny..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Coronation Ode
O Thou enfolded in grief,Man, with thy mantle of scorn!Arise and warn!Unloved prophet of illWho sittest clothed in thy grief,In thy pride of..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Condemned
From Caiphas to Pilate I was sent,Who judged with unwashed hands a crime to me.Next came the sentence, and the soldieryClaimed me their prey...
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Come With The Summer Leaves
Come with the summer leaves, love, to my grave,And, if you doubt among the quiet dead,Choose out that mound where greenest grasses waveAnd where the..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Chanclebury Ring
Say what you will, there is not in the worldA nobler sight than from this upper Down.No rugged landscape here, no beauty hurledFrom its Creator's..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Butterflies
O child of Joy! What idle life is thine!Thou, in these meadows, while thy skies are blue,And while thy joys are new to thee like wine,Chasest mad..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Body And Soul: A Metaphysical Argument
Man openeth the caseBody, from the arroganceOf the Soul thou seekest shield,Makest prayer the old mis--chanceOf your birth--bond be repealed,Since..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
At The Parting Of The Ways
Here our roads part. Go thou by thy green valley,Thy youth before thee and the river Nile.My path lies o'er the desert, and my galleyHas rougher seas..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt