Category: Poetry
Unto the realm of Pluto many roads Lead with dark winding from the bright abodes Of men, and when life’s last detaining thread Is cut by Iris, and the body, dead, With Charon’s coin in palm, rests in the tomb Or on the pyre, the dæmon of its doom After much pitiful forbearance...
The holy friar knelt him there And crossed him, and began to tell His beads, each counted for a prayer, Until the sound of vesper-bell Stole through the darkling twilight air An...
2. Part 2’Twas her’s, not mine--yet strange to tell Moons waxed and waned and years flew by, Ere she had learned love’s sacred spell By touch of hand and glance of eye.
1. Part 1Unto the realm of Pluto many roads Lead with dark winding from the bright abodes Of men, and when life’s last detaining thread Is cut by Iris, and the body, dead, With Charon’s...
4. Part 4With her last word the golden door swung free, A blaze of sunshine scattered all the gloom, Sweet music rolled in a voluptuous sea, The radiant air was filled with scent and blo...