Robert Crawford Poems

'Tis in sooth life's Eden,
We within it;
Love put all the seed in
To begin it,
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Most of life's offices may overlap,
And form a covert for the growth of thought;
But there are some no thought and no device
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I.
I, too, have come to feel and see
How little in the world can be
Ours, as we pine and pass —
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On the white bosom, 'tween the breasts
Of Helen Love has made his bower,
As in a sweet and secret tower
Where mid the world's decay he rests —
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His over-hot desire itself defeats,
And where mere prudence had attained, he fails
For lack of self-retention; as on ice
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They look in with dim eyes
And faces sweet and sad,
Upon the life that dies —
Shades who have had
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Touch me, from out your breast of love,
With such white hands that be
As beautiful as a dream of
Your lips' virginity;
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The holy lamps of Evening shine
Sheer in the West — the air is still —
As I sit with this heart of mine
At the foot of Parnassus' hill.
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The opiate isles upon time's sea
In the dream-dark
Rise with their harbours silently
Before each day-abandoned bark,
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There is in us a hue and cry,
The hart of Life is up;
But when the chase is done, we'll lie
Where we with Death shall sup.
...