The dead arose. Long had they dreamed,
Deep in the grass of the still grave,
Of meeting their beloved once more.
...
Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you oft
In phrases neither sweet nor soft,
...
When the long day has faded to its end,
The flowers gone, and all the singing done,
And there is no companion left save Death-
Ah! there is one,
...
Take away the dancing girls, quench the lights, remove
Golden cups and garlands sere, all the feast; away
Lutes and lyres and Lalage; close the gates, above
...
Deem not my love is only for the bloom,
The honey and the marble, that is You;
Tis so, Beloved, common loves consume
...
When the spring comes again, will you be there?
Three springs I watched and waited for your face,
And listened for your voice upon the air;
...
Bring not your dreams to me--
Blown dust, and vapour, and the running stream--
Saying, 'He, too, doth dream,
Touched of the moon.'
...
What are my books?--My friends, my loves,
My church, my tavern, and my only wealth;
My garden: yea, my flowers, my bees, my doves;
...
I read there is a man who sits apart,
A sort of human spider in his den,
Who meditates upon a fearful art--
...
To Man in haste, flushed with impatient dreams
Of some great thing to do, so slowly done,
The long delay of Time all idle seems,
...