The Poems of Ernest Dowson

Index by First Line

Verses

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

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Created November 18, 2002; revised December 22, 2002.