Poems
Which filled it when the dancing fauns of Pan
Roused Bacchanalian laughter in the woods.
Roused Bacchanalian laughter in the woods.
The Lover
Beloved, we are thirsting each for each,
But you are dazed with evil, and strange dreams;
Yet seek strong shelter in my soul, for you
Will surely crave amongst these alien lives
Familiar sanctuary—you will grieve
For known accustomed days, the human lips,
The comforting speech of tears, the dear desires,
Close days of mortal rapture. They are hard,
These gods—they are warm with superficial warmth,
And since they reigned the world has tasted pain,
But you are dazed with evil, and strange dreams;
Yet seek strong shelter in my soul, for you
Will surely crave amongst these alien lives
Familiar sanctuary—you will grieve
For known accustomed days, the human lips,
The comforting speech of tears, the dear desires,
Close days of mortal rapture. They are hard,
These gods—they are warm with superficial warmth,
And since they reigned the world has tasted pain,
The Maiden
Oh! I shall sorrow for you, sorrow for you—
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