The Poems of Ernest Dowson

Index by First Line

A gift of Silence, sweet!
Ah, Manon, say, why is it we
A little while to walk with thee, dear child
All that a man may pray
All that I had I brought
All the moon-shed nights are over
Around were all the roses red
A song of the setting sun!
A while we wandered (thus it is I dream!)
Because I am idolatrous and have besought
Before my light goes out for ever if God...
Beyond the need of weeping
Beyond the pale of memory
By the pale marge of Acheron
By the sad waters of separation
Calm, sad, secure; behind high convent walls
Cease smiling, Dear! a little while be sad
The cherry-coloured velvet of your cloak
Come hither, Child! and rest
Come not before me now, 0 visionary face!
Dew on her robe and on her tangled hair
Erewhile, before the world was old
Even now the fragrant darkness of her hair
Exceeding sorrow
The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof
Goddess the laughter-loving, Aphrodite, befriend!
Here, where the breath of the scented-gorse floats...
If we must part
In the deep violet air
In your mother’s apple-orchard
I said: “There is an end of my desire
I took her dainty eyes, as well
I was always a lover of ladies’ hands!
I was not sorrowful, I could not weep
I watched the glory of her childhood change
I would not alter thy cold eyes
Into the lonely park all frozen fast
I seek no more to bridge the gulf that lies
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
Let be at last; give over words and sighing
Let us go hence: the night is now at hand
Little lady of my heart!
“A little, passionately, not at all?”
Love heeds no more the sighing of the wind
Love’s aftermath! I think the time is now
Love wine and beauty and the spring
Mark the day white, on which the Fates have smiled
Neobule, being tired
Oh, I would live in a dairy
Pale amber sunlight falls across
See how the trees and the osiers lithe
Shall one be sorrowful because of love
The sky is up above the roof
Sleep on, dear, now
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say
Strange grows the river on the sunless evenings!
Tears fall within mine heart
There comes an end to summer
The wisdom of the world said unto me
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter
They sleep well here
Through the green boughs I hardly saw thy face
Through what long heaviness, assayed in what strange fire
Upon the eyes, the lips, the feet
Violets and leaves of vine
We have walked in Love’s land a little way
What land of Silence
When I am old
When this, our rose, is faded
Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous frown
With delicate, mad hands, behind his sordid bars
Without, the sullen noises of the street!
Why am I sorry, Chloe? Because the moon is far
Why is there in the least touch of her hands
Wine and woman and song
You would have understood me, had you waited
Webpage © 2002 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (
Created November 18, 2002; revised December 22, 2002.