Edward Dowden

(3 May 1843 - 4 April 1913 / Co. Cork / Ireland)

Edward Dowden Poems

1. In The Garden Viii: Later Autumn 1/1/2004
2. Love’s Lord 1/1/2004
3. Communion 1/1/2004
4. In The Garden Vi: A Peach 1/1/2004
5. In The Garden Iii: An Interior 1/1/2004
6. In The Garden Iv: The Singer 1/1/2004
7. Durer's 'Melencholia' 1/1/2004
8. In The Garden Vii: Early Autumn 1/1/2004
9. In The Cathedral Close 1/1/2004
10. In September 1/1/2004
11. Deus Absconditus 1/1/2004
12. In The Garden Ii: Visions 1/1/2004
13. In The Garden V: A Summer Moon 1/1/2004
14. The Secret Of The Universe 1/1/2004
15. Awakening 1/1/2004
16. By The Window 1/1/2004
17. In July 1/1/2004
18. The Initiation 1/1/2004
19. Leonardo's 'Monna Lisa' 1/1/2004
20. First Love 4/16/2010
21. A New Hymn For Solitude 1/1/2004
22. In The Cathedral 1/1/2004
23. In The Garden I: The Garden 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Edward Dowden

In The Garden I: The Garden

PAST the town's clamour is a garden full
Of loneness and old greenery; at noon
When birds are hush'd, save one dim cushat's croon,
A ripen'd silence hangs beneath the cool
Great branches; basking roses dream and drop
A petal, and dream still; and summer's boon
Of mellow grasses, to be levell'd soon
By a dew-drenched scythe, will hardly stop
At the uprunning mounds of chestnut trees.
Still let me muse in this rich haunt by day,
And know all night in dusky placidness
It lies beneath the summer, while great ease
Broods in the leaves, and every light...

Read the full of In The Garden I: The Garden

Leonardo's 'Monna Lisa'

MAKE thyself known, Sibyl, or let despair
Of knowing thee be absolute; I wait
Hour-long and waste a soul. What word of fate
Hides 'twixt the lips which smile and still forbear?
Secret perfection! Mystery too fair!
Tangle the sense no more lest I should hate
Thy delicate tyranny, the inviolate
Poise of thy folded hands, thy fallen hair.
Nay, nay,--I wrong thee with rough words; still be

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