Ernest Christopher Dowson

(2 August 1867 – 23 February 1900 / London / England)

Cynara

Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.


Comments about Cynara by Ernest Christopher Dowson

  • Eugene Cherny MD (5/23/2020 11:44:00 PM)

    Incredibly I learned this poem in high school English as an impressionable young lad. It an elegy for lost love as is The Raven, but from a unique point of view, being with a prostitute to forget her. A hypnotic rhythm like The Raven without the alliteration. Haunting. And the origin of the term Gone with the Wind.(Report)Reply

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  • Dr Dillip K SwainDr Dillip K Swain (10/31/2017 9:55:00 AM)

    Beautiful poem.. enjoyed..10(Report)Reply

    3 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 19, 2010



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