Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems

By Edward Dowden

Dowden, Edward (1843-1913)

I. THE APOLLO BELVEDERE

II.

II. THE VENUS OF MELOS

III.

III. ANTINOUS CROWNED AS BACCHUS

IV.

IV. LEONARDO'S “MONNA LISA”

V. ST LUKE PAINTING THE VIRGIN

ON THE HEIGHTS

“LA RÉVÉLATION PAR LE DÉSERT”

THE MORNING STAR

A CHILD'S NOONDAY SLEEP

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

II.

II. THE ARTIST'S WAITING

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

A SONG OF THE NEW DAY

SWALLOWS

MEMORIALS OF TRAVEL

I. COACHING

II.

II. IN A MOUNTAIN PASS

III.

III. THE CASTLE

IV.

IV. Αισθητιχη φαντασια

V. ON THE SEA-CLIFF

VI.

VI. ASCETIC NATURE

VII.

VII. RELICS

VIII.

VIII. ON THE PIER OF BOULOGNE

IX.

II.

III.

IV.

IV. DARWINISM IN MORALS

V. AWAKENING

VI.

VI. FISHERS

VII.

VII. COMMUNION

VIII.

VIII. A SONNET FOR THE TIMES

IX.

XI.

XII.

NEW HYMNS FOR SOLITUDE

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

IN THE CATHEDRAL CLOSE

FIRST LOVE

THE SECRET OF THE UNIVERSE:

BEAU RIVAGE HOTEL

IN A JUNE NIGHT

FROM APRIL TO OCTOBER

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VII. THE PAUSE OF EVENING

VIII.

VIII. IN JULY

IX.

IX. IN SEPTEMBER

X. IN THE WINDOW

XI.

XI. AN AUTUMN MORNING

[subsection]

SEA VOICES

ABOARD THE “SEA-SWALLOW”

SEA-SIGHING

IN THE MOUNTAINS

“THE TOP OF A HILL CALLED CLEAR”

MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS

TO A CHILD DEAD AS SOON AS BORN

II.

III.

III

IV.

VI.

VII.

VII

VIII.

VIII

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS OF LATER DATES

A BEECH-TREE IN WINTER

JUDGMENT

DÜRER'S “MELENCHOLIA”

MILLET'S “THE SOWER”

AT MULLION (CORNWALL)

THE WINNOWER TO THE WINDS

EMERSON

SENT TO AN AMERICAN SHAKESPEARE SOCIETY

NOCTURNE

THE WHIRLIGIG

PARADISE LOST AND FOUND

AFTER METASTASIO

THE CORN-CRAKE

II.

III.

IV.

FLOWERS FROM THE SOUTH OF FRANCE

TO HESTER

UNUTTERED

IMITATED FROM J. SOULARY'S “LE FOSSOYEUR”

IMITATED FROM GOETHE'S “GANYMEDE”

WITH A COPY OF MY “POEMS”

PROLOGUE TO MAURICE GEROTHWOHL'S VERSION OF VIGNY'S “CHATTERTON”

A SONG

THE DROPS OF NECTAR. 1789

AMOR AS LANDSCAPE-PAINTER

THE WANDERER

IMITATED FROM GOETHE'S “ALEXIS AND DORA”

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162

VI

Nay, more! yet more, for my lips are fain;
No cups for a babe; I ask the whole
Deep draught that a God could hardly drain,
—Wine of your soul.

Pour! for the goblet is great I bring,
Not worthless, rough with youths at strife,
And men that toil and women that sing,
—It is all my life.