Francis Thompson

Lo, in the sanctuaried East,
Day, a dedicated priest
In all his robes pontifical exprest,
Lifteth slowly, lifteth sweetly,…

I fear to love thee,
Sweet, because Love's the ambassador of loss;
White flake of childhood, clinging so To my soiled raiment, thy shy snow At tenderest touch will shrink and go.
Love me not, delightful child.

Here I make oath--Although the heart that knows its
Hear loath,
And credit less--That he who kens to meet Pain's kisses
Which hiss against his tears,

Now with wan ray that other sun of Song
Sets in the bleakening waters of my soul:
One step, and lo! the Cross stands gaunt and long
'Twixt me and yet bright skies, a presaged dole.Even so, O Cross! thine is the victory.…

I
Secret was the garden;
Set i' the pathless awe
Where no star its breath can draw.

Not the Circean wine
Most perilous is for pain:
Grapes of the heavens' star-loaden vine,
Whereto the lofty-placed…

Jane Williams, in her last letter to Shelley, wrote:"Why do you talk of never enjoying moments like the past?
Are you going to join your friend Plato, or do you expect I
shall do so soon? Buona Notte." That letter was dated July
6th; Shelley was drowned on the 8th; and this is his…

The heart you hold too small and local thing,
Such spacious terms of edifice to bear.
And yet, since Poesy first shook out her wing,
The mighty Love has been impalaced there;

I looked, she drooped, and neither spake, and cold,
We stood, how unlike all forecasted thought
Of that desir-ed minute! Then I leaned
Doubting; whereat she lifted--oh, brave eyes…

Love and love's beauty only hold their revels
In life's familiar, penetrable levels:
What of its ocean-floor?
I dwell there evermore.…

The after-even! Ah, did I walk, Indeed, in her or even?
For nothing of me or around But absent She did leaven,
Felt in my body as its soul, And in my soul its heaven.'Ah me! my very flesh turns soul, Essenced,' I sighed, 'with…

Daughter of the ancient Eve,
We know the gifts ye gave--and give.
Who knows the gifts which YOU shall give,
Daughter of the newer Eve?…

Little Jesus, wast Thou shy
Once, and just so small as I?
And what did it feel like to be
Out of Heaven, and just like me?…

This labouring, vast, Tellurian galleon,
Riding at anchor off the orient sun,
Had broken its cable, and stood out to space
Down some frore Arctic of the aërial ways:…

I walk, I only,
Not I only wake;
Nothing is, this sweet night,
But doth couch and wake…

O thou most dear!
Who art thy sex's complex harmony
God-set more facilely;
To thee may love draw near…

'No man ever attained supreme knowledge, unless his heart had been
torn up by the roots.'When I presage the time shall come--yea, now
Perchance is come, when you shall fail from me,
Because the mighty spirit, to whom you vow…

She did not love to love; but hated him
For making her to love, and so her whim
From passion taught misprision to begin;
And all this sin…

Now in these last spent drops, slow, slower shed,
Love dies, Love dies, Love dies--ah, Love is dead!
Sad Love in life, sore Love in agony,
Pale Love in death; while all his offspring songs,…

As an Arab journeyeth
Through a sand of Ayaman,
Lean Thirst, lolling its cracked tongue,
Lagging by his side along;…

Cross child! red, and frowning so?
'I, the day just over,
Gave a lock of hair to--no!
How DARE you say, my lover?'He asked you?--Let me understand;…

Hearken my chant, ’tis
As a Bacchante’s,
A grape-spurt, a vine-splash, a tossed tress, flown vaunt ’tis!
Suffer my singing,…

The wailful sweetness of the violin Floats down the hush-ed waters of the wind,
The heart-strings of the throbbing harp begin To long in aching music. Spirit-pined,
In wafts that poignant sweetness drifts, until The wounded soul ooze…

I do not need the skies' Pomp, when I would be wise; For pleasaunce nor to use Heaven's champaign when I muse. One grass-blade in its veins Wisdom's whole flood contains; Thereon my foundering mind Odyssean fate can find. O little blade, now…