Paul Verlaine Poems

When I had pushed the narrow garden-door,
Once more I stood within the green retreat;
Softly the morning sunshine lighted it,
...

I am the Empire in the last of its decline,
That sees the tall, fair-haired Barbarians pass,-the while
Composing indolent acrostics, in a style
...

Oft do I dream this strange and penetrating dream:
An unknown woman, whom I love, who loves me well,
...

The courtly serenaders,
The beauteous listeners,
Sit idling 'neath the branches
A balmy zephyr stirs.
...

An ancient terra-cotta Faun,
A laughing note in 'mid the green,
Grins at us from the central lawn,
With secret and sarcastic mien.
...

It rains in my heart
As it rains on the town,
What languor so dark
That it soaks to my heart?
...

Give ear unto the gentle lay
That's only sad that it may please;
It is discreet, and light it is:
A whiff of wind o'er buds in May.
...

O'er the wood's brow,
Pale, the moon stares;
In every bough
Wandering airs
...

'The abbe rambles.'--'You, marquis,
Have put your wig on all awry.'--
'This wine of Cyprus kindles me
Less, my Camargo, than your eye!'
...

The wind the other night blew down the Love
That in the dimmest corner of the park
So subtly used to smile, bending his arc,
...