Richard Le Gallienne Poems

Mammon is this, of murder and of gold,
To-day, to-morrow, and ever from of old,
...

Great Omar, here to-night we drain a bowl
Unto thy long-since transmigrated soul,
...

Go, little book, and be the looking-glass
Of her dear soul,
The mirror of her moments as they pass,
Keeping the whole;
...

Face in the tomb, that lies so still,
May I draw near,
And watch you sleep and love you,
Without word or tear?
...

My head is at your feet,
Two Cytherean doves,
The same, O cruel sweet,
As were the Queen of Love's;
...

Who will gather with me the fallen year,
This drift of forgotten forsaken leaves,
Ah! who give ear
To the sigh October heaves
...

April is in the world again,
And all the world is filled with flowers-
Flowers for others, not for me!
For my one flower I cannot see,
...

I know not in what place again I'll meet
The face I love-but there is not a street
In the wide world where you can wander, sweet,
...

Her eyes are bluebells now, her voice a bird,
And the long sighing grass her elegy;
She who a woman was is now a star
...

She bore us in her dreaming womb,
And laughed into the face of Death;
...