Richard Le Gallienne Poems

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,
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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,
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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
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Deem not my love is only for the bloom,
The honey and the marble, that is You;
Tis so, Beloved, common loves consume
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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;
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Bring not your dreams to me--
Blown dust, and vapour, and the running stream--
Saying, 'He, too, doth dream,
Touched of the moon.'
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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;
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I read there is a man who sits apart,
A sort of human spider in his den,
Who meditates upon a fearful art--
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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,
...