Ernest Christopher Dowson
After Paul Verlaine-Iii - Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Around were all the roses red,
The ivy all around was black.
Dear, so thou only move thine head,
Shall all mine old despairs awake!
Too blue, too tender was the sky,
The air too soft, too green the sea.
Always I fear, I know not why,
Some lamentable flight from thee.
I am so tired of holly-sprays
And weary of the bright box-tree,
Of all the endless country ways;
Of everything alas! save thee.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You