Edward Robeson Taylor Poems

Deep-brooding Night has done its worst and best,
And once again we front the new-born Day,
Where now the sickled moon with lessening ray
Hangs low upon the sky's auroral breast.
...

Within the labyrinth's depths the Minotaur,
Slain by the sword she gave, lay stark and dead,
And with his finger following her thread
...

For that they slew the cattle of the Sun
Ulysses' comrades sank to death while he,
Borne on the billows of the friendly sea,
...

Full oft it was as balmy night
Wove many a web of dreamy light,
The moon so touched her budding charms,
...

A strange-eyed Eagle fiercely tore its way
From out the breast of Latium, and began
At once to feed upon the blood of man,
And grow enormously from day to day.
...

These dreams of mine refuse to let me go,
And hold me fast with such entreating face,
With such insistent fondness of embrace,
That once again I range the Long Ago;
...

The ghosts that come from out the years,
Dream-winged and purged of passion's fears,
Troop round me now as oft before,
In love to lead my footsteps o'er
...

The burning sun has scorched the rainless ground,
Where the volcano's progeny still lie;
And yet beneath an unrelenting sky
What creatures born to beauty may be found!
...

AFTER FERNAND GREGH

This eve dream brims my heart, my tears unbidden rise,
Eachwhile I feel another infinite soul to be,
My silence fills the air with tremulous harmony,
...

Ring out, O heartsome Christmas Bells,
Ring clear, and deep, and long,
Till every noblest feeling swells
To crush the mean and wrong;
...