A Ballad Of The Heather By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Ballad Of The Heather We spent a day together, One day of all our lives, Of love in cloudless weather– Such only youth contrives–…

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A Chaunt In Praise By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Chaunt In Praise How many hymns have I chaunted, Lady, in laud of thee, Each with a sigh for its burthen, tear for its…

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A Convent Wothout God By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Convent Wothout God A prison is a convent without God. Poverty, Chastity, Obedience Its precepts are. In this austere abode None gather wealth of…

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A Cuckoo Song By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Cuckoo Song Crowns are for kings to wear, sad crowns of gold Over tired heads that ache, world–cares untold. Not on thy happy brows,…

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A Day In The Castle Of Envy By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Day In The Castle Of Envy The castle walls are full of eyes, And not a mouse may creep unseen. All the window slits…

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A Digit Of The Moon By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Digit Of The Moon This book is written for Man’s ultimate need, A creed of joy sent down to the aged Earth From days…

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A Dream By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Dream I dreamed A dream of you, Not as you seemed When you were late unkind And blind To my eyes’ pleading for a…

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A Dream Of Good By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Dream Of Good To do some little good before I die; To wake some echoes to a loftier theme; To spend my life’s last…

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A Glory Gone By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Glory Gone What is my thought of you, beloved one, Now you have passed from me and gone your ways? Glory is gone with…

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A Lesson In Humility By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Lesson In Humility ‘Tis time, my soul, thou shouldst be purged of pride. What men are these with thee, whose ill deeds done Make…

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A Love Secret By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Love Secret Love has its secrets, joy has its revealings. How shall I speak of that which love has hid? If my beloved shall…

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A Nocturne By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Nocturne The Moon has gone to her rest, A full hour ago. The Pleiads have found a nest In the waves below. Slow, the…

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A Perfect Sonnet By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Perfect Sonnet Oh, for a perfect sonnet of all time! Wild music, heralding immortal hopes, Strikes the bold prelude. To it from each clime,…

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A Rhapsody By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Rhapsody There is a God most surely in the heavens, Who smileth always, though His face be hid. And young Joy cometh as His…

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A Relapse By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Relapse I thought that I had done with fleshly things, That in the azure of high thought my soul Had learned to fly on…

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A Storm In Summer By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Storm In Summer Nature that day a woman was in weakness, A woman in her impotent high wrath. At the dawn we watched it,…

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A Summer In Tuscany By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Summer In Tuscany Do you remember, Lucy, How, in the days gone by We spent a summer together, A summer in Tuscany, In the…

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A Vision Of Folly By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Vision Of Folly I saw one rushing madly in pursuit Of Liberty. With frenzied steps he strode. Old laws and customs with disdainful foot…

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A Wedding March By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Wedding March Clash your cymbals, maids, to–day. Chaunt the praise of Cynthia. You, her virgins, yokeless, free, Young Time’s choice, his brides–to–be. Nymphs in…

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Across The Pampas By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Across The Pampas Dost thou remember, oh, dost thou remember, Here as we sit at home and take our rest, How we went out one…

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Adonis By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Adonis The gods did love Adonis, and for this He died, ere time had furrowed his young cheek. For Aphrodité slew him with a kiss….

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Alfred Tennyson By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Alfred Tennyson Tears, idle tears! Ah, who shall bid us weep, Now that thy lyre, O prophet, is unstrung? What voice shall rouse the dull…

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All White By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

All White All white, all light, all beautiful she stands, Love in her eyes, a glory round her brows, Blanched as the lilies chaste in…

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All White Continued By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

All White Continued Ah, beautiful sweet woman, made in vain, Since Launcelot is dead and only I, Alas for this new world of recreant men,…

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Ambition By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Ambition I had ambition once. Like Solomon I asked for wisdom, deeming wisdom fair, And with much pains a little knowledge won Of Nature’s cruelty…

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An Autumn Sonnet By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

An Autumn Sonnet These little presents of your tenderness, Although less grand a gift than was your love, Are dear to me in this October…

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An Inscription By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

An Inscription At this fair oak table sat Whilom he our Laureate, Poet, handicraftsman, sage, Light of our Victorian age, William Morris, whose art’s plan…

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An Unwritten Tragedy By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

An Unwritten Tragedy Ho, ye that thirst beside the running stream! Love is a running stream, whose waters flow Upon the earth, and who would…

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Antara By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Antara How many singers before me! Are there yet songs unsung? Dost thou, my sad soul, remember where was her dwellingplace? Tents in Jiwá, the…

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At A Funeral By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

At A Funeral I loved her too, this woman who is dead. Look in my face. I have a right to go And see the…

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At The Gate By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

At The Gate Naked I came into the world of pleasure, And naked come I to this house of pain. Here at the gate I…

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At The Parting Of The Ways By 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…

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Body And Soul A Metaphysical Argument By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Body And Soul A Metaphysical Argument Man openeth the case Body, from the arrogance Of the Soul thou seekest shield, Makest prayer the old mis–chance…

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Butterflies By 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…

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Chanclebury Ring By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Chanclebury Ring Say what you will, there is not in the world A nobler sight than from this upper Down. No rugged landscape here, no…

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Come With The Summer Leaves By 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…

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Condemned By 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 soldiery Claimed…

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Coronation Ode By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Coronation Ode O Thou enfolded in grief, Man, with thy mantle of scorn! Arise and warn! Unloved prophet of ill Who sittest clothed in thy…

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Couplets In Praise By 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…

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Dead Joys By 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…

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Death In A Ball-Room By 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…

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Don Juan’s Good-Night By 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 gaily Slip into…

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El Harith By 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…

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Friendship’s Black And White By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Friendship’s Black And White Romance is writ for me with many names Of fair loved faces, each page a design Blazoned and tinctured, this with…

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Farewell Dark Gaol By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Farewell Dark Gaol Farewell, dark gaol. You hold some better hearts Than in this savage world I thought to find. I do not love you…

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For Thee By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

For Thee What woes are there I would not choose to bear For thy dear sake? Curses were blest, the ache Of sorrow’s scourging and…

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Ghost Of The Beautiful Past By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Ghost Of The Beautiful Past Ghost of the beautiful past, of the days long gone, of a queen, of a fair sweet woman. Ghost with…

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Giacinta By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Giacinta Giacinta sat upon the garden wall Among the autumn lilies, and let fall Their crimson petals on her lover’s head, And laughed because her…

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Gibraltar By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Gibraltar SEVEN weeks of sea, and twice seven days of storm Upon the huge Atlantic, and once more We ride into still water and the…

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Glad Bird, I Do Bewail Thee By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Glad Bird, I Do Bewail Thee Glad bird, I do bewail thee, Thy song it was so sweet That Earth looked up to hail thee…

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God Is My Witness By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

God Is My Witness God knows, ’twas not with a fore–reasoned plan I left the easeful dwellings of my peace, And sought this combat with…

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Good-Bye By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Good-Bye Fools! must we ever quarrel with our fate, Too late Reading the worth of what we did despise, And wise At the journey’s end…

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Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter Iv

Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter Iv How shall I take up this vain parable And ravel out its issue? Heaven and Hell,…

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Gratitude By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Gratitude If gratitude a poor man’s virtue is, ‘Tis one at least my sick soul can afford. Bankrupt I am of all youth’s charities, But…

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Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter I

Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter I An idle story with an idle moral! Why do I tell it, at the risk of…

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Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter Iii

Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter Iii Who has not seen the falls of Tivoli, The rocks, the foam–white water, and the three…

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Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter V

Griselda A Society Novel In Verse – Chapter V Griselda’s madness lasted forty days, Forty eternities! Men went their ways, And suns arose and set,…

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He Makes An End By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

He Makes An End What shall I tell you, dear, who have told all, What do, whose wish, whose will is manacled, What dare, whose…

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Her Name Liberty By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Her Name Liberty I thought to do a deed of chivalry, An act of worth, which haply in her sight Who was my mistress should…

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How Grey The World Was By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

How Grey The World Was How grey the world was with its memories, How dark even this gay room where the motes run! How black…

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