Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . star, the smallest one. While some drops, where lightning went, Show the final storm begun— X When the fire-fly hides its spot,When the garden-voices failIn the darkness thick and hot,— Shall another voice avail,That shape be where those are not ?206 MY STAR XI Has some plague a longer leaseProffering its help uncouth ? Cant one even die in peace ? As one shuts ones eyes on youth, Is that face the last one sees ? XII Oh, how dark your villa was,Windows fast and obdurate ! How the garden grudged me grassWhere I stood—the iron gate Gro
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . star, the smallest one. While some drops, where lightning went, Show the final storm begun— X When the fire-fly hides its spot,When the garden-voices failIn the darkness thick and hot,— Shall another voice avail,That shape be where those are not ?206 MY STAR XI Has some plague a longer leaseProffering its help uncouth ? Cant one even die in peace ? As one shuts ones eyes on youth, Is that face the last one sees ? XII Oh, how dark your villa was,Windows fast and obdurate ! How the garden grudged me grassWhere I stood—the iron gate Ground its teeth to let me pass! MY STAR All that I know Of a certain star,Is, it can throw (Like the angled spar)Now a dart of red, Now a dart of my friends have saidThey would fain see, star that dartles the red and the blue!Then it stops like a bird,—like a flower, hangs furled ; They must solace themselves with the Saturn above itWhat matter to me if their star is a world ? Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it. 207. Of the million or two, more or less,I rule and possess,One man, for some cause undefined,Was least to my mind. II I struck him, he grovelled of course— For, what was his force ? I pinned him to earth with my weight And persistence of hate— And he lay, would not moan, would not curse, As if lots might be worse. IllWere the object less mean, would he standAt the swing of my hand !For obscurity helps him and blotsThe hole where he I set my five wits on the stretchTo inveigle the in vain ! gold and jewels I threw,Still he couched there tempted his blood and his in roses my mesh, Choicest cates and the flagons best spilth-Still he kept to his filth ! 208 INSTANS TYRANNUS IV Had he kith now or kin, were access To his heart, if I press— Just a son or a mother to seize— No such booty as these ! Were it simply a friend to pursue Mid my million or two. Who could pay me in person or pelf W
Size: 2267px × 1102px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
