Robert Malise Bowyer Nichols
Was there love once? I have forgotten her. Was there grief once? grief yet is mine. Other loves I have, men rough, but men who stir
How beautiful it is to wake at night, When over all there reigns the ultimate spell Of complete silence, darkness absolute,
As I walk the misty hill All is languid, fogged, and still; Not a note of any bird
O Nightingale my heart How sad thou art! How heavy is thy wing,
For Anne. All the loud winds were in the garden wood, All shadows joyfuller than lissom hounds
The beating of the guns grows louder. 'Not long, boys, now'. My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder.
(From 'A Faun's Holiday') Come, ye sorrowful, and steep Your tired brows in a nectarous sleep:
(From 'A Faun's Holiday') Meanwhile, though nations in distress Cower at a comet's loveliness
Put by the sun my joyful soul, We are for darkness that is whole; Put by the wine, now for long years
(From 'A Faun's Holiday') 'Be warned! I feel the world grow old, And off Olympus fades the gold
He lay, and those who watched him were amazed To see unheralded beneath the lids Twin tears, new-gathered at the price of pain,
Never am I so alone As when I walk among the crowd - Blurred masks of stern or grinning stone,
It was deep night, and over Jerusalem's low roofs The moon floated, drifting through high vaporous woofs. The moonlight crept and glistened silent, solemn, sweet,
Asleep within the deadest hour of night And turning with the earth, I was aware How suddenly the eastern curve was bright,