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That when we stabbed thy heart it was our own real hearts we slew。
Being ourselves the sowers and the seeds；
The night that covers and the lights that fade；
The spear that pierces and the side that bleeds；
The lips betraying and the life betrayed；
The deep hath calm： the moon hath rest： but we
Lords of the natural world are yet our own dread enemy。
Is this the end of all that primal force
Which； in its changes being still the same；
From eyeless Chaos cleft its upward course；
Through ravenous seas and whirling rocks and flame；
Till the suns met in heaven and began
Their cycles； and the morning stars sang； and the Word was Man！
Nay； nay； we are but crucified； and though
The bloody sweat falls from our brows like rain
Loosen the nails … we shall come down I know；
Staunch the red wounds … we shall be whole again；
No need have we of hyssop…laden rod；
That which is purely human； that is godlike； that is God。
LOUIS NAPOLEON
Eagle of Austerlitz！ where were thy wings
When far away upon a barbarous strand；
In fight unequal； by an obscure hand；
Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kings！
Poor boy！ thou shalt not flaunt thy cloak of red；
Or ride in state through Paris in the van
Of thy returning legions； but instead
Thy mother France； free and republican；
Shall on thy dead and crownless forehead place
The better laurels of a soldier's crown；
That not dishonoured should thy soul go down
To tell the mighty Sire of thy race
That France hath kissed the mouth of Liberty；
And found it sweeter than his honied bees；
And that the giant wave Democracy
Breaks on the shores where Kings lay couched at ease。
ENDYMION （For music）
The apple trees are hung with gold；
And birds are loud in Arcady；
The sheep lie bleating in the fold；
The wild goat runs across the wold；
But yesterday his love he told；
I know he will come back to me。
O rising moon！ O Lady moon！
Be you my lover's sentinel；
You cannot choose but know him well；
For he is shod with purple shoon；
You cannot choose but know my love；
For he a shepherd's crook doth bear；
And he is soft as any dove；
And brown and curly is his hair。
The turtle now has ceased to call
Upon her crimson…footed groom；
The grey wolf prowls about the stall；
The lily's singing seneschal
Sleeps in the lily…bell； and all
The violet hills are lost in gloom。
O risen moon！ O holy moon！
Stand on the top of Helice；
And if my own true love you see；
Ah！ if you see the purple shoon；
The hazel crook； the lad's brown hair；
The goat…skin wrapped about his arm；
Tell him that I am waiting where
The rushlight glimmers in the Farm。
The falling dew is cold and chill；
And no bird sings in Arcady；
The little fauns have left the hill；
Even the tired daffodil
Has closed its gilded doors； and still
My lover comes not back to me。
False moon！ False moon！ O waning moon！
Where is my own true lover gone；
Where are the lips vermilion；
The shepherd's crook； the purple shoon？
Why spread that silver pavilion；
Why wear that veil of drifting mist？
Ah！ thou hast young Endymion
Thou hast the lips that should be kissed！
LE JARDIN
The lily's withered chalice falls
Around its rod of dusty gold；
And from the beech…trees on the wold
The last wood…pigeon coos and calls。
The gaudy leonine sunflower
Hangs black and barren on its stalk；
And down the windy garden walk
The dead leaves scatter； … hour by hour。
Pale privet…petals white as milk
Are blown into a snowy mass：
The roses lie upon the grass
Like little shreds of crimson silk。
LA MER
A white mist drifts across the shrouds；
A wild moon in this wintry sky
Gleams like an angry lion's eye
Out of a mane of tawny clouds。
The muffled steersman at the wheel
Is but a shadow in the gloom； …
And in the throbbing engine…room
Leap the long rods of polished steel。
The shattered storm has left its trace
Upon this huge and heaving dome；
For the thin threads of yellow foam
Float on the waves like ravelled lace。
LE PANNEAU
Under the rose…tree's dancing shade
There stands a little ivory girl；
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade。
The red leaves fall upon the mould；
The white leaves flutter； one by one；
Down to a blue bowl where the sun；
Like a great dragon； writhes in gold。
The white leaves float upon the air；
The red leaves flutter idly down；
Some fall upon her yellow gown；
And some upon her raven hair。
She takes an amber lute and sings；
And as she sings a silver crane
Begins his scarlet neck to strain；
And flap his burnished metal wings。
She takes a lute of amber bright；
And from the thicket where he lies
Her lover； with his almond eyes；
Watches her movements in delight。
And now she gives a cry of fear；
And tiny tears begin to start：
A thorn has wounded with its dart
The pink…veined sea…shell of her ear。
And now she laughs a merry note：
There has fallen a petal of the rose
Just where the yellow satin shows
The blue…veined flower of her throat。
With pale green nails of polished jade；
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl；
There stands a little ivory girl
Under the rose…tree's dancing shade。
LES BALLONS
Against these turbid turquoise skies
The light and luminous balloons
Dip and drift like satin moons
Drift like silken butterflies；
Reel with every windy gust；
Rise and reel like dancing girls；
Float like strange transparent pearls；
Fall and float like silver dust。
Now to the low leaves they cling；
Each with coy fantastic pose；
Each a petal of a rose
Straining at a gossamer string。
Then to the tall trees they climb；
Like thin globes of amethyst；
Wandering opals keeping tryst
With the rubies of the lime。
CANZONET
I have no store
Of gryphon…guarded gold；
Now； as before；
Bare is the shepherd's fold。
Rubies nor pearls
Have I to gem thy throat；
Yet woodland girls
Have loved the shepherd's note。
Then pluck a reed
And bid me sing to thee；
For I would feed
Thine ears with melody；
Who art more fair
Than fairest fleur…de…lys；
More sweet and rare
Than sweetest ambergris。
What dost thou fear？
Young Hyacinth is slain；
Pan is not here；
And will not come again。
No horned Faun
Treads down the yellow leas；
No God at dawn
Steals through the olive trees。
Hylas is dead；
Nor will he e'er divine
Those little red
Rose…petalled lips of thine。
On the high hill
No ivory dryads play；
Silver and still
Sinks the sad autumn day。
LE JARDIN DES TUILERIES
This winter air is keen and cold；
And keen and cold this winter sun；
But round my chair the children run
Like little thing