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Arthur Stringer, love, in English Clear filters

RomanticArthur Stringer

Protestations

If I tire of you, beautiful woman, I know that the fault is mine; Yet not all mine the failure And not all mine the loss! In loveliness still you walk; But I have walked with sorrow! I have threaded narrows, And I have passed through perils That you know nothing of! And I in my grief have gazed In eyes that were not yours; And my emptier hours have known The sigh of kindlier bosoms, The kiss of kindlier mouths! Yet the end of all is written, And nothing, O rose-leaf woman,
InspiredArthur Stringer

The Meaning

It isn't the Sea that I love, But the ships That must dare and endure and defy and survive it! It isn't the flesh that I love, But the spirit That guides and derides and controls and outlives it! It isn't this earth that I love, But the mortals Who give to it meaning and colour and passion and life! For what is the Sea without ships? And what is the flesh without soul? And what is a world without love?
RomanticArthur Stringer

One Room in My Heart

One room in my heart shall be closed, I said; One chamber at least in my soul shall be secret and locked! I shall hold it my holy of holies, and no one shall know it! But you, calm woman predestined, with casual hands, You came with this trivial key, And ward by obdurate ward the surrendering lock fell back, And disdainfully now you wander and brood and wait In this room that I thought was my own!
SadArthur Stringer

My Heart Stood Empty

My heart stood empty and bare, So I hung it with thoughts of a woman. The remembered ways of this woman Hung sweet in my heart. So I followed where thought should lead, And it led to her feet. But the mouth of this woman was pain, And the love of this woman, regret; And now only the thought Of all those remembered thoughts Of remembered ways, Is shut in my heart!
SadArthur Stringer

You Bid Me to Sleep

You bid me to sleep,-- But why, O Daughter of Beauty, Was beauty thus born in the world? Since out of these shadowy eyes The wonder shall pass! And out of this surging and passionate breast The dream shall depart! And out of these delicate rivers of warmth The fire shall wither and fail! And youth like a bird from your body shall fly! And Time like a fang on your flesh shall feed! And this perilous bosom that pulses with love Shall go down to the dust from which it arose,-- Yet Daughter of Beauty, close, Close to its sumptuous warmth You hold my sorrowing head,
AnxiousArthur Stringer

The Life on the Table

In the white-walled room Where the white bed waits Stand banks of meaningless flowers; In the rain-swept street Are a ghost-like row of cabs; And along the corridor-dusk Phantasmal feet repass. Through the warm, still air The odour of ether hangs; And on this slenderest thread Of one thin pulse Hangs and swings The hope of life-- The life of her I love!
SadArthur Stringer

Life

A rind of light hangs low On the rim of the world; A sound of feet disturbs The quiet of the cell Where a rope and a beam looms high At the end of the yard. But in the dusk Of that walled yard waits a woman; And as the thing from its cell, Still guarded and chained and bound, Crosses that little space, Silent, for ten brief steps, A woman hangs on his neck. And that walk from a cell to a sleep Is known as Life, And those ten dark steps
DreamyArthur Stringer

Spring Floods

You stood alone In the dusky window, Watching the racing river. Touched with a vague unrest, And if tired of loving too much More troubled at heart to find That the flame of love could wither And the wonder of love could pass, You kneeled at the window-ledge And stared through the black-topped maples Where an April robin fluted,-- Stared idly out At the flood-time sweep of the river, Silver and paling gold In the ghostly April twilight. Shadowy there in the dusk
DreamyArthur Stringer

The Wild Swans Pass

In the dead of the night You turned in your troubled sleep As you heard the wild swans pass; And then you slept again. You slept-- While a new world swam beneath That army of eager wings, While plainland and slough and lake Lay wide to those outstretched throats, While the far lone Lights allured That phalanx of passionate breasts. And I who had loved you more Than a homing bird loves flight,-- I watched with an ache for freedom, I rose with a need for life, Knowing that love had passed

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