Love thou thy dream
All base love scorning,
Love thou the wind
And here take warning
That dreams alone can truly be,
For 'tis in dream I come to thee.

When I carefully consider the curious habits of dogs
I am compelled to conclude
That man is the superior animal.

When I consider the curious habits of man
I confess, my friend, I am puzzled.

Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.

As cool as the pale wet leaves
of lily-of-the-valley
She lay beside me in the dawn.

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

The petals fall in the fountain,
the orange-coloured rose-leaves,
Their ochre clings to the stone.

O fan of white silk,
clear as frost on the grass-blade,
You also are laid aside.

As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.

Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young
and from the intolerant,
Move among the lovers of perfection alone.
Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light
And take you wounds from it gladly.

The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew,
It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings,
And I let down the crystal curtain
And watch the moon through the clear autumn.