Her nature is the sea's, that smiles to-night
A radiant maiden in the moon's soft light;
The unsuspecting seaman sets his sails,
Forgetful of the fury of her gales;
To-morrow, mad with storms, the ocean roars,
And o'er his hapless wreck the flood she pours!
You have left me behind, old friend, at the Yellow Crane Terrace,
On your way to visit Yangzhou in the misty month of flowers;
Your sail, a single shadow, becomes one with the blue sky,
Till now I see only the river, on its way to heaven.
Another Irish landlord gone to grass,
Slain by the bullets of the tenant class!
Pray, good agrarians, what wrong requires
Such foul redress? Between you and the squires
All Ireland's parted with an even hand
For you have all the ire, they all the land.
Her hair was a waving bronze, and her eyes
Deep wells that might cover a brooding soul;
And who, till he weighed it, could ever surmise
That her heart was a cinder instead of a coal!
Point d’injure ! silence autour du vieillard blême,
Dernier représentant de l’époque problème.
Les aînés sont tous morts ; nous qui les comprenons,
Amis, la haine est là, défendons bien leurs noms.
In the middle of the intersection of the Rue de Seine & the Rue de Buci a van stops & the driver, taking his sweet time despite the pile up of traffic, loads several cases of bottles onto his trolley & wheels them into the Bar du Marche.
FRIEND if all these verses die:
Soon will you, and soon will I
But, if any word should live,
Then that word to you I give.
816
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become—
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
Not a kiss in life; but one kiss, at life’s end,
I have set on the face of Death in trust for thee.
Through long years keep it fresh on thy lips, 0 friend!
At the gate of Silence give it back to me.
I could not dig; I dared not rob:
Therefore I lied to please the mob.
Now all my lies are proved untrue
And I must face the men I slew.
What tale shall serve me here among
Mine angry and defrauded young?