52 quotes
Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea.
Poems (1897)
With slow sweet surgery restore the brain,
And to dispel shadows and shadowy fear.
Poems (1897)
Beautiful friendship tried by sun and wind,
Durable from the daily dust of life.
Poems (1897)
We cannot choose; our faces madden men!
Paolo and Francesca (1900)
A mighty spearsman, and a seaman wise,
A hunter, and at need a lord of lies.
Ulysses (1902)
O death, thou hast a beckon to the brave,
Thou last sea of the navigator, last
Plunge of the diver, and last hunter's leap.
Ulysses (1902)
A sense of something coming on the world,
A crying of dead prophets from their tombs,
A singing of dead poets from their graves.
Herod (1901)
The fierce ingratitude of children loved,
Ah, sting of stings!
Poems (1897)
As rich and purposeless as is the rose:
Thy simple doom is to be beautiful.
Poems (1897)
True to a vision, steadfast to a dream.
Ulysses (1902)
The listless ripple of Oblivion.
Poems (1897)
With sward of parsley and of violet,
And poplars shivering in a silvery dream,
And smell of cedar sawn, and sandal-wood,
And these low-crying birds that haunt the deep.
Ulysses (1902)
So still it is that we might almost hear
The sigh of all the sleepers in the world.
And all the rivers running to the sea.
Paolo and Francesca (1900)
She drugged her brain against realities,
And lived in dreams, and was with music fed.
Poems (1897)
I have learned to dread what cometh suddenly,
And sniff about a sweet thing like a hound:
And most I dread the sudden gifts of gods.
Ulysses (1902)
Beautiful Faith surrendering to Time.
Poems (1897)
What were revel without wine?
What were wine without a song?
Ulysses (1902)
To me it seems that they who grasp the world,
The Kingdom and the power and the glory,
Must pay with deepest misery of spirit,
Atoning unto God for a brief brightness,
And ever ransom, like this rigid king,
The outward victory with inward loss.
Herod (1901)
But we shall sit with luminous holy smiles,
Endeared by many griefs, by many a jest,
And custom sweet of living side by side.
Poems (1897)
Thy simple doom is to be beautiful.
Poems (1897)