16 quotes
But is there any comfort to be found?
Man is in love and loves what vanishes,
What more is there to say?
The Tower (1928)
The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.
A pity beyond all telling
Is hid in the heart of love.
The Pity Of Love in The Rose (1893)
All women dote upon an idle man
Although their children need a rich estate.
No man has ever lived that had enough
Of children’s gratitude or woman’s love.
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
O do not love too long,
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.
In The Seven Woods (1904)
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
When they have but looked upon their images--
Would none had ever loved but you and I!
In The Seven Woods (1904)
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.
In The Seven Woods (1904)
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
Crossways (1889)
Everything that man esteems
Endures a moment or a day.
Love’s pleasure drives his love away,
The painter’s brush consumes his dreams.
The Tower (1928)
Only God, my dear,
Could love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair.
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
Nothing that we love over-much
Is ponderable to our touch.
Michael Robartes and the Dancer (1921)
Players and painted stage took all my love,
And not those things that they were emblems of.
Last Poems (1936)
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.
In The Seven Woods (1904)
Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)