Sonnet XIV: Alan Seeger IT may be for the world of weeds and tares And dearth in Nature of sweet Beauty’s rose That oft as Fortune from ten thousand shows One from the train of Love’s true courtiers Straightway on him who gazes, unawares, Deep...
Written in a Volume of the Comtesse de Noailles: Alan Seeger Be my companion under cool arcades That frame some drowsy street and dazzling square Beyond whose flowers and palm-tree promenades White belfries burn in the blue tropic air. Lie near me in dim forests...
Fragments: Alan Seeger In that fair capital where Pleasure, crowned Amidst her myriad courtiers, riots and rules, I too have been a suitor. Radiant eyes Were my life’s warmth and sunshine, outspread arms My gilded deep horizons. I rejoiced In yielding to all amorous influence...
Sonnet VII: Alan Seeger To me, a pilgrim on that journey bound Whose stations Beauty’s bright examples are, As of a silken city famed afar Over the sands for wealth and holy ground, Came the report of one — a woman crowned With all perfection,...
Sonnet 04 Alan Seeger If I was drawn here from a distant place, ‘Twas not to pray nor hear our friend’s address, But, gazing once more on your winsome face, To worship there Ideal Loveliness. On that pure shrine that has too long ignored The...
The Nympholept Alan Seeger There was a boy — not above childish fears — With steps that faltered now and straining ears, Timid, irresolute, yet dauntless still, Who one bright dawn, when each remotest hill Stood sharp and clear in Heaven’s unclouded blue And all...
Sonnet 12 Alan Seeger Clouds rosy-tinted in the setting sun, Depths of the azure eastern sky between, Plains where the poplar-bordered highways run, Patched with a hundred tints of brown and green, — Beauty of Earth, when in thy harmonies The cannon’s note has ceased...
Ode in Memory of the American Volunteers Fallen for France Alan Seeger I Ay, it is fitting on this holiday, Commemorative of our soldier dead, When — with sweet flowers of our New England May Hiding the lichened stones by fifty years made gray —...
With a Copy of Shakespeares Sonnets on Leaving College Alan Seeger As one of some fat tillage dispossessed, Weighing the yield of these four faded years, If any ask what fruit seems loveliest, What lasting gold among the garnered ears, — Ah, then I’ll say...
All Thats Not Love Alan Seeger All that’s not love is the dearth of my days, The leaves of the volume with rubric unwrit, The temple in times without prayer, without praise, The altar unset and the candle unlit. Let me survive not the lovable...
