Core: noun, the most important part of a thing, the essence; from the Latin cor, meaning heart.

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The Fifth Sunday of Easter

Lege.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 05/09/04 11:23:57 AM
Categorized as Religious.


   
   

Three by Dowson III

Three poems by Ernest Dowson.

Growth

I watched the glory of her childhood change,
Half-sorrowful to find the child I knew,
      (Loved long ago in lily-time)
Become a maid, mysterious and strange,
With fair, pure eyes—dear eyes, but not the eyes I knew
            Of old, in the olden time!

Till on my doubting soul the ancient good
Of her dear childhood in the new disguise
      Dawned, and I hastened to adore
The glory of her waking maidenhood,
And found the old tenderness within her deepening eyes,
            But kinder than before.

(from "Verses")

In Tempore Senectutis

When I am old,
   And sadly steal apart,
Into the dark and cold,
   Friend of my heart!
Remember, if you can,
Not him who lingers, but that other man,
Who loved and sang, and had a beating heart,—
      When I am old!

When I am old,
   And all Love's ancient fire
Be tremulous and cold:
   My soul's desire!
Remember, if you may,
Nothing of you and me but yesterday,
When heart on heart we bid the years conspire
      To make us old.

When I am old,
   And every star above
Be pitiless and cold:
   My life's one love!
Forbid me not to go:
Remember nought of us but long ago,
And not at last, how love and pity strove
      When I grew old!

(from "Verses")

Seraphita

Come not before me now, O visionary face!
Me tempest-tost, and borne along life's passionate sea;
Troublous and dark and stormy though my passage be;
Not here and now may we commingle or embrace,
Lest the loud anguish of the waters should efface
The bright illumination of thy memory,
Which dominates the night; rest, far away from me,
In the serenity of thine abiding-place!

But when the storm is highest, and the thunders blare,
And sea and sky are riven, O moon of all my night!
Stoop down but once in pity of my great despair,
And let thine hand, though over late to help, alight
But once upon my pale eyes and my drowning hair,
Before the great waves conquer in the last vain fight.

(from "Verses")

The Poems of Ernest Dowson (1900), pp. 22, 50, 72. The book is on line here.

See also Three by Dowson II: Three poems by Ernest Dowson.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 05/09/04 11:16:10 AM
Categorized as Sunday Poetry Series.


   

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