Death? is it death you give? So b… thou hast been long my friend,… cool cheek shall have my kiss, whi… expires on thy still lips, O lovel… Come then, loose hands, fair Life…
CROUCHED in the terrible land, The circle of pitiless ice, With frozen bloody feet And her pestilential summer’s Fever-throb in her brow,
WHERE is poor Jesus gone? He sits with Dives now, And his dogs flesh their teeth On Lazarus below. Where is poor Jesus gone?
THRO’ the mists of years, Thro’ the lies of men, Your bloody sweat and tears, Your desperate hopes and fears Reach us once again,
GRAVE this deep in your hearts, Forget not the tale of the past! Never, never believe That any will help you, or can, Saving only Yourselves!
GIRLS, we love you, and love Asks you to give again That which draws it above, Beautiful, without stain. Give us weariless faith
It is something in this darker dre… to have wrestled with its pleas… it is something to have sinned, an… it is something to have failed,… It is something to have loved the…
(Melbourne) HERE to the parks they come, The scourings of the town, Like weary wounded animals Seeking where to lie them down.
‘YES, let Art go, if it must be That with it men must starve ’ If Music, Painting, Poetry Spring from the wasted hearth!’ Yes, let Art go, till once again
ALOLL in the warm clear water, On her back with languorous limbs, She lies. The baby upon her breas… Paddles and falls and swims. With half-closed eyes she smiles,
‘THE foxes have holes, And the birds of the air have nest… But where shall the heads of the s… Be laid, be laid?’ ‘Where the cold corpse rests,
To Mary Robinson ‘WHAT, are you lost, you pretty… This is no place for such sweet th… Our bodies, rank with sweat, will… And, you’ll observe, our lives are…
BEYOND the Night, down o’er the… I see light’s harbinger of day rel… Upon the false gleam of the ante-d… Lo, the fair heaven of sun-pursuin… Beyond the lampless sleep and peri…
WHEN day’s hard task’s done, Eve’s scant meal partaken, Out we steal each one, Weariless, unshaken. In small reeking squares,
(With his first book of 'Songs’) ‘MY Sweet, my Child, through all… Of dark and wind and rain, Where thunder crashes, and the lig… Sears the bewildered brain,