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In midst of waves, there are silver beads

And scraped by time paints of the white enamel…

I so like the morns which autumn breeds,

For their caress, so short and gentle.

 

And I do like the foam on the shore,

When it again is whitening in mire,

And, greedy, I am hiding here a store

Of hazy days, while skies are full of fire.

 

But somewhere there, they’re roaming in flame,

The same ones as I am, without name and number,

And somebody’s young being – just the same –

Instead of me, is ceasing in sad amber.

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When you’re up against a trouble,

Meet it squarely, face to face;

Lift your chin and set your shoulders,

Plant your feet and take a brace.

When it’s in vain to try to dodge it,

Do the best that you can do;

You may fail, but you may conquer,

See  it through!

Black may be the clouds about you

And your future may seem grim,

But don’t let your nerve desert you;

Keep yourself in fighting trim.

If the worst is bound to happen,

Spite of all that you can do,

Running from it will not save you,

See it through!

 

Even hope may seem but futile,

When with trouble you’re beset.

But remember you are facing

Just what other men have met.

You may fail, but fall still fighting;

Don’t give up, whate’er you do;

Eyes front, head to the finish.

See it through!

Let me kiss that special kiss

The one that’s more than touch

That gentle pressing of the lips

Persuading blood to rush

 

The kiss that makes you tremble

And makes your legs go weak

A moist embrace of tenderness

That takes you to your peak

 

With a heady scent of passion

It makes your body sway

The kiss that penetrates your soul

And takes your breath away

 

It lingers for a lifetime

You never will forget

The bursting of your senses

When our emotions met.

Lay down on your pillow

And turn the lights down low

Let me take you to the garden

Where the passion flower grows

 

Close your eyes and enter dreams

As love’s emotion sets the scene

And flitters through the garden

Where the passion flower grows

 

Touch the tender petals

Of the flower as she grows

A tentative endeavour

As your feeling overflow

 

Let me draw you to the place

Where ecstasy can be embraced

The beauty of the garden

Where the passion flower grows

 

Feel your mind exploding

In the heavy scented air

Experience the shiver

As you’re captured unaware

 

A little touch of heaven

Where imagination flows

The valley in the garden

Where the passion flower grows.

 

 

Today I opened wide my eyes,

And stared with wonder and surprise,

To see beneath November skies

An apple blossom peer;

Upon a branch as bleak as night

It gleamed exultant on my sight,

A fairy beacon burning bright

Of hope and cheer.

 

‘Alas’! said I, poor foolish thing,

Have you mistaken this for Spring?

Behold, the thrush has taken wing,

And Winter’s near.’

Serene it seemed to lift its head:

‘The Winter’s wrath I do not dread,

Because I am,’ it proudly said,

‘A pioneer.

 

‘Some apple blossom must be first,

With beauty’s urgency to burst

Into a world for joy athirst,

And so I dare;

And I shall see what none shall see-

December skies gloom over me,

And mock them with my April glee,

And fearless fare.

 

‘And I shall hear what none shall hear-

The hardy robin piping clear,

The Storm King gallop dark and drear

Across the sky;

And I shall know what none shall know-

The silent kisses of the snow,

The Christmas candles’ silver glow,

Before I die.

 

Then from your frost-gemmed window pane

One morning you will look in vain,

My smile of delicate disdain

No more to see

But though I pass before my time,

And perish in the grale and grime,

Maybe you’ll have a little rhyme

To spare for me.

 

 

 

 

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,

Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;

Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight,

Sigh, heat, again in the dew of the morn.

Your mother Eire is always young,

Dew ever shining and twilight grey;

Though hope fall from you and love decay,

Burning in fires of slanderous tongue.

 

Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill:

For there the mystical brotherhood

Of sun and moon and hallow and wood

And river and stream work out their will;

And God stands winding His lonely horn,

And time and the world are never in flight;

And love is less kind than the grey twilight,

And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,

When our mother Nature laughs around;

When even the deep blue heavens look glad,

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren,

And gossip of swallows through all the sky;

The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den,

And the wilding bee hums merrily by.

 

The clouds are at play in azure space,

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale,

And here they stretch to the frolic chase,

And there they roll on the easy gale.

 

There’s a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,

There’s a titter of winds in that beechen tree,

There a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.

 

And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles

On a dewy earth that smiles in his ray,

On the leaping waters and gay young isles;

At, look, he’ll smile thy gloom away.

 

 

 

 

Come to me in my dreams, and then

By day I shall be well again!

For so the night will more than pay

The hopeless longing of the day.

 

Come, as thou cam’st a thousand times,

A messenger from radiant climes,

And smile on thy new world, and be

As kind to others as to me!

 

Or, as thou never cam’st sooth,

Come now, and let me dream it truth,

And part my hair, and kiss my brow,

And say, my love why sufferest thou?

 

Come to me in my dreams, and then

By day I shall be well again!

For so the night will more than pay

The hopeless longing of the day.

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann’d:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

 

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep,

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.