The Rhyme Of Joyous Garde Adam Lindsay Gordon Through the lattice rushes the south wind, dense With fumes of the flowery frankincense From hawthorn blossoming thickly ; And gold is showered on grass unshorn, And poppy-fire on shuddering corn, With May-dew flooded and flushed with...
The Last Leap Adam Lindsay Gordon ALL is over! fleet career, Dash of greyhound slipping thongs, Flight of falcon, bound of deer, Mad hoof-thunder in our rear, Cold air rushing up our lungs, Din of many tongues. Once again, one struggle good, One vain effort;?he...
The Feud: A Border Ballad Adam Lindsay Gordon PLATE I Rixa super mero They sat by their wine in the tavern that night, But not in good fellowship true : The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright, And hotter the argument grew. ‘I asked...
Sunlight On The Sea Adam Lindsay Gordon [The Philosophy of a Feast] Make merry, comrades, eat and drink (The sunlight flickers on the sea), The garlands gleam, the glasses clink, The grape juice mantles fair and free, The lamps are trimmed, although the light Of...
Scene 3. A Cliff On The Breton Coast, Overhanging The Sea Adam Lindsay Gordon Hugo. Down drops the red sun; through the gloaming They burst-raging waves of the sea, Foaming out their own shame-ever foaming Their leprosy up with fierce glee; Flung back from the...
Scene 1. A Castle In Normandy Adam Lindsay Gordon Hugo. Well, boy, what is it? Henry. The feast is spread. Hugo. Why tarry the guests for me? Let Eric sit at the table’s head; Alone I desire to be. [Henry goes out.] What share have...
Rippling Water Adam Lindsay Gordon The maiden sat by the river side (The rippling water murmurs by), And sadly into the clear blue tide The salt tear fell from her clear blue eye. ‘ ‘Tis fixed for better, for worse,’ she cried, ‘And to-morrow the...
Quare Fatigasti Adam Lindsay Gordon Two years ago I was thinking On the changes that years bring forth ; Now I stand where I then stood drinking The gust and the salt sea froth ; And the shuddering wave strikes, linking With the waves subsiding...
Potters’ Clay Adam Lindsay Gordon Though the pitcher that goes to the sparkling rill Too oft gets broken at last, There are scores of others its place to fill When its earth to the earth is cast ; Keep that pitcher at home, let it...
Podas Okus Adam Lindsay Gordon Am I waking ? Was I sleeping ? Dearest, are you watching yet ? Traces on your cheeks of weeping Glitter, ’tis in vain you fret ; Drifting ever ! drifting onward ! In the glass the bright sand runs...
