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A Woman’s Sonnets: Xi
Wild words I write, and lettered in deep pain,To lay in your loved hand as love's farewell.It is the thought we shall not meet againNerves me to..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: X
Love, ere I go, forgive me each least wrong,Each trouble I unwittingly have wrought.My heart, my life, my tears to thee belong;Yet have I erred..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Viii
I sue thee not for pity on my case.If I have sinned, the judgment has begun.My joy was but one day of all the days,And clouds have blotted it and hid..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Vii
What have I gained? A little charity?I never more may dare to fling a stoneAt any weakness, nor make boast that IA better fence or fortitude had..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Vi
What have I lost? The faith I had that RightMust surely prove itself than Ill more strong.For see how little my poor prayers had mightTo save me, at..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: V
Whate'er the cost to me, with this farewell,I shall not see thee, speak to thee again.If some on Earth must feel the pangs of Hell,Mine only be it..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Ix
The day draws nigh, methinks, when I could stayCalm in thy presence with no dream of ill,When, having put all earthliness away,I could be near thee..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Iv
Should ever the day come when this drear worldShall read the secret which so close I hold,Should taunts and jeers at my bowed head be hurled,And all..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Iii
Where is the pride for which I once was blamed,My vanity which held its head so high?Who would believe them, seeing me thus tamed,Thus subject, here..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: Ii
Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.Let me a little longer hold thy hand.Too soon it is to bid me to forgetThe joys I was so late to..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Woman’s Sonnets: I
If the past year were offered me again,With choice of good and ill before me set.Should I be wiser for the bliss and painAnd dare to choose that we..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Wedding March
Clash your cymbals, maids, to--day.Chaunt the praise of Cynthia.You, her virgins, yokeless, free,Young Time's choice, his brides--to--be.Nymphs in..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Vision Of Folly
I saw one rushing madly in pursuitOf Liberty. With frenzied steps he strode.Old laws and customs with disdainful footHe spurned beneath him in a mire..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Summer In Tuscany
Do you remember, Lucy,How, in the days gone byWe spent a summer together,A summer in Tuscany,In the chestnut woods by the river,You and the rest and..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Storm In Summer
Nature that day a woman was in weakness,A woman in her impotent high wrath.At the dawn we watched it, a low cloud half seenUnder the sun; an innocent..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Rhapsody
There is a God most surely in the heavens,Who smileth always, though His face be hid.And young Joy cometh as His messengerUpon the Earth, like to a..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Relapse
I thought that I had done with fleshly things,That in the azure of high thought my soulHad learned to fly on less substantial wingsTo a new Heaven, a..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Perfect Sonnet
Oh, for a perfect sonnet of all time!Wild music, heralding immortal hopes,Strikes the bold prelude. To it from each clime,Like tropic birds on some..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Nocturne
The Moon has gone to her rest,A full hour ago.The Pleiads have found a nestIn the waves below.Slow, the Hours one by oneIn Midnight's footsteps..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxviii
I saw one sitting on a kingly throne,A man of age, whom Time had touched with white;White were his brows, and white his vestment shone,And white the..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxvii
I will release my soul of argument.He that would love must follow with shut eyes.My reason of the years was discontent,My treasure for all hope a..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxvi
The majesty of Rome to me is nought;The imperial story of her conquering carTouches me only with compassionate thoughtFor the doomed nations faded by..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxv
At last I kneel in Rome, the bourne, the goalOf what a multitude of laden hearts!No pilgrim of them all a wearier soulBrought ever here, no master of..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxix
Ancient of days! What word is thy commandTo one befooled of wit and his own way?What counsel hast thou, and what chastening handFor a lost soul grown..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxxiv
O fool! O false! I have abandoned Heaven,And sold my wealth for metal of base kind.O frail disciple of a fair creed givenFor human hope when all the..
©  Wilfrid Scawen Blunt