FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39  
40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   >>  
bullet-bored; around which, there and here, Are sinister stains.--One dreads to look around.-- The place seems thinking of that time of fear And dares not breathe a sound. Within is emptiness: the sunlight falls On faded journals papering its walls; On advertisement chromos, torn with time, Around a hearth where wasps and spiders build.-- The house is dead; meseems that night of crime It, too, was shot and killed. UNANOINTED. I. Upon the Siren-haunted seas, between Fate's mythic shores, Within a world of moon and mist, where dusk and daylight wed, I see a phantom galley and its hull is banked with oars, With ghostly oars that move to song, a song of dreams long dead: "Oh, we are sick of rowing here! With toil our arms are numb; With smiting year on weary year Salt-furrows of the foam: Our journey's end is never near, And will no nearer come-- Beyond our reach the shores appear Of far Elysium." II. Within a land of cataracts and mountains old and sand, Beneath whose heavens ruins rise, o'er which the stars burn red, I see a spectral cavalcade with crucifix in hand And shadowy armor march and sing, a song of dreams long dead: "Oh, we are weary marching on! Our limbs are travel-worn; With cross and sword from dawn to dawn We wend with raiment torn: The leagues to go, the leagues we've gone Are sand and rock and thorn-- The way is long to Avalon Beyond the deeps of morn." III. They are the curs'd! the souls who yearn and evermore pursue The vision of a vain desire, a splendor far ahead; To whom God gives the poet's dream without the grasp to do, The artist's hope without the scope between the quick and dead: I, too, am weary toiling where The winds and waters beat; When shall I ease the oar I bear And rest my tired feet? When will the white moons cease to glare, The red suns veil their heat? And from the heights blow sweet the air Of Love's divine retreat? THE END OF ALL. I. I do not love you now, O narrow heart, that had no heights but pride! You, whom mine fed; to whom yours still denied Food when mine hungered, and of wh
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39  
40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   >>  



Top keywords:

Within

 

shores

 

Beyond

 

heights

 

dreams

 

leagues

 

splendor

 

raiment

 

travel

 

Avalon


evermore

 

pursue

 

vision

 

desire

 

narrow

 

divine

 

retreat

 

denied

 
hungered
 

waters


toiling

 
artist
 

meseems

 

hearth

 

spiders

 

killed

 

UNANOINTED

 

mythic

 

haunted

 
Around

chromos
 

dreads

 

thinking

 

stains

 
bullet
 
sinister
 
journals
 

papering

 
advertisement
 

breathe


emptiness

 

sunlight

 

daylight

 

heavens

 

Beneath

 

cataracts

 

mountains

 

shadowy

 

spectral

 

cavalcade