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University of Virginia Library

Poems

by William Ernest Henley

Henley, William Ernest (1849-1903)

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[Ask me not how they came]

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I.

I ENTER PATIENT

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

VIII STAFF-NURSE: OLD STYLE

IX.

IX LADY-PROBATIONER

X.

X STAFF-NURSE: NEW STYLE

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XIV AVE, CAESAR!

XV.

XV ‘THE CHIEF’

XVI.

XVI HOUSE-SURGEON

XVII.

XVIII.

XVIII CHILDREN: PRIVATE WARD

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVI ANTEROTICS

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXVIII DISCHARGED

THE SONG OF THE SWORD

ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS

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BALLADE OF A TOYOKUNI COLOUR-PRINT

BALLADE (DOUBLE REFRAIN) OF YOUTH AND AGE

BALLADE (DOUBLE REFRAIN) OF MIDSUMMER DAYS AND NIGHTS

BALLADE OF DEAD ACTORS

BALLADE MADE IN THE HOT WEATHER

BALLADE OF TRUISMS

DOUBLE BALLADE OF LIFE AND FATE

DOUBLE BALLADE OF THE NOTHINGNESS OF THINGS

ATTADALE, WEST HIGHLANDS

FROM A WINDOW IN PRINCES STREET

[The gods are dead? Perhaps they are! Who knows?]

[When you are old, and I am passed away—]

[Beside the idle summer sea]

I. M. R. G. C. B. 1878

[We shall surely die]

[What is to come we know not. But we know]

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I.

II.

III.

IV.

IV I. M. R. T. HAMILTON BRUCE (1846–1899)

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXVIII To S. C.

XXIX.

XXIX To R. L. S.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXIV To K. de M.

XXXV.

XXXV I. M. MARGARITÆ SORORIS (1886)

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVII To W. A.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLI To R. A. M. S.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XLV To W. B. B.

XLVI.

XLVI MATRI DILECTISSIMÆ I. M.

XLVII.

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RHYMES AND RHYTHMS

I.

I To H. B. M. W.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

VIII To A. J. H.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIII To JAMES McNEILL WHISTLER

XIV.

XIV To J. A. C.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVII CARMEN PATIBULARE To H. S.

XVIII.

XVIII I. M. MARGARET EMMA HENLEY (1888–1894)

XIX.

XIX I. M. R. L. S. (1850–1894)

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXII To P. A. G.

XXIII.

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HAWTHORN AND LAVENDER

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XLVI.

XLVII.

XLVIII.

XLIX.

L.

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LONDON VOLUNTARIES

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

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I.

II.

II LIFE-GUARDSMAN

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

VIII BLUECOAT BOY

IX.

IX MOUNTED POLICE

X.

XI.

XII.

XII FLOWER-GIRL

XIII.

[The Artist muses at his ease]

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THREE PROLOGUES

I.

II.

II RICHARD SAVAGE

III.

III ADMIRAL GUINEA

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FOR ENGLAND'S SAKE

I.

II.

II THE MAN IN THE STREET

III.

III PRO REGE NOSTRO

IV.

IV THE LEVY OF SHIELDS

V.

VI.

VI A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE

VII.

VII ‘OUR CHIEF OF MEN’

VIII.

VIII ‘A HEALTH UNTO HER MAJESTY’

IX.

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IN MEMORIAM THOMAS EDWARD BROWN

IN MEMORIAM GEORGE WARRINGTON STEEVENS

IN MEMORIAM REGINAE DILECTISSIMAE VICTORIAE

A SONG OF SPEED

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[In the time of snows]

[The pretty washermaiden]

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OF THE FROWARDNESS OF WOMAN

OF RAIN

OF ANTIQUE DANCES

OF SPRING MUSIC

OF LADIES' NAMES

[In the street of By-and-By]

[‘Felicity. Enquire within.]

[We 'll to the woods and gather may]

[My love to me is always kind]

[With strawberries we filled a tray]

[The leaves are sere, and on the ground]

MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE

PIPE OF MY SOUL

WITH A FAN FROM RIMMEL'S

VILLON'S STRAIGHT TIP TO ALL CROSS COVES

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OF RAIN

To H. W.

A sombre, sagging sky
Of tossed and tumbled wrack
And ragged clouds, that lie
To meet the wind's attack,
Or march in columns black
And serried; then a still,
A feverish kind of thrill;
And whispering in the leaves,
And pattering on the pane,
It falls in very sheaves,
The weary, dreary rain.

272

The summer seems to sigh
As she were flouted back.
The grasses rot and die,
The corn begins to crack.
The flowers would like to pack,
It 's all so dank and chill,
Discomfortable and shrill:
While, flickering from the eaves
And gurgling down the drain,
The sodden world receives
The weary, dreary rain.

The big trees, broad and high,
Grow thick and blurred and slack.
The birds, too dull to fly,
Brood dismal, and the track
Shines. If a sudden quack
Sound from the ducks that swill,
The damp hush takes it ill.
But ever and on it weaves
Its rhythms with might and main,
And all its will achieves,
The weary, dreary rain.

Envoy

It lapses not: it cleaves
A way to heart and brain;
It dins, it duns, it deaves,
It worries and wastes and grieves,
The weary, dreary rain.