The Poems of Ernest Dowson

Index by First Line


Originally published 1896

A gift of Silence, sweet!
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 sad waters of separation
Calm, sad, secure; behind high convent walls
Cease smiling, Dear! a little while be sad
Come hither, Child! and rest
Come not before me now, 0 visionary face!
Dew on her robe and on her tangled hair
Even now the fragrant darkness of her hair
Exceeding sorrow
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
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
Little lady of my heart!
“A little, passionately, not at all?”
Love heeds no more the sighing of the wind
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
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say
Strange grows the river on the sunless evenings!
The wisdom of the world said unto me
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter
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
With delicate, mad hands, behind his sordid bars
Without, the sullen noises of the street!
Why is there in the least touch of her hands
You would have understood me, had you waited
Webpage © 2002 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (
Created November 18, 2002; revised December 22, 2002.