Ernest Christopher Dowson Poems

Wine and woman and song,
Three things garnish our way:
Yet is day over long.
...

All that I had I brought,
Little enough I know;
A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
A rose to match thy snow:
...

What land of Silence,
Where pale stars shine
On apple-blossom
And dew-drenched vine,
...

If we must part,
Then let it be like this.
Not heart on heart,
Nor with the useless anguish of a kiss;
...

Erewhile, before the world was old,
When violets grew and celandine,
In Cupid's train we were enrolled:
Erewhile!
...

This libation, Cupid, take,
With the lilies at thy feet;
Cherish Pierrot for their sake
Send him visions strange and sweet,
...

In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
...

Cease smiling, Dear! a little while be sad,
Here in the silence, under the wan moon;
Sweet are thine eyes, but how can I be glad,
...

All the moon-shed nights are over,
And the days of gray and dun;
There is neither may nor clover,
And the day and night are one.
...

I the deep violet air,
Not a leaf is stirred;
There is no sound heard,
...