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Accolon of Gaul with Other Poems   By: (1865-1914)

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First Page:

ACCOLON OF GAUL

WITH

OTHER POEMS.

BY MADISON J. CAWEIN.

[Illustration]

LOUISVILLE.

JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY.

1889

COPYRIGHTED BY

MADISON J. CAWEIN.

1889

With all my Heart

to

LILIAN AND ROSE.

[Illustration]

CONTENTS.

Accolon of Gaul, 1

Der Freischutz, 65

To Revery, 82

Late October, 85

An Anemone, 88

The Rain Crow, 90

Loveliness, 92

The Last Scion of the House of Clare, 95

On the Jellico Spur, 105

Señorita, 111

Leander to Hero, 113

Musagetes, 116

The Quarrel, 118

The Mood o' the Earth, 119

A Gray Day, 122

Carmen, 125

Disenchantment of Death, 128

The Three Urgandas, 131

The Brush Sparrow, 135

CHORDS

I. Sleep while I sing to thee, 138

II. Floats a wild chant of morning, 139

III. When love delays, 141

IV. Thou hast not loved her, 143

V. O Life, 144

VI. If thou wouldst know the Beautiful, 148

VII. Then up the Orient heights, 150

VIII. Vanishing Visions, 152

IX. As to a Nymph, 154

X. Ah! now the orchard's leaves are sear, 157

Dead and Gone, 158

A Mabinogi, 159

Genius Loci, 162

ACCOLON OF GAUL.

With triumphs gay of old romance. KEATS.

PRELUDE.

Why, dreams from dreams in dreams remembered! naught Save this, alas! that once it seemed I thought I wandered dim with someone, but I knew Not who; most beautiful and good and true, Yet sad through suffering; with curl crowned brow, Soft eyes and voice; so white she haunts me now: And when, and where? At night in dreamland. She Led me athwart a flower showered lea Where trammeled puckered pansy and the pea; Spread stains of pale rod poppies rinced of rain, So gorged with sun their hurt hearts ached with pain; Heaped honeysuckles; roses lavishing beams, Wherein I knew were huddled little dreams Which laughed coy, hidden merriment and there Blew quick gay kisses fragrancing the air. And where a river bubbled through the sward A mist lay sleepily; and it was hard To see whence sprung it, to what seas it led, How broadly spread and what it was it fled So ceasless in its sighs, and bickering on Into romance or some bewildering dawn Of wisest legend from the storied wells Of lost Baranton, where old Merlin dwells, Nodding a white poll and a grand, gray beard As if some Lake Ladyé he, listening, heard, Who spake like water, danced like careful showers With blown gold curls thro' drifts of wild thorn flowers; Loose, lazy arms in graceful movement tossed, Float flower like down a woodland vista, lost In some peculiar note that wrings a tear Slow down his withered cheek... Continue reading book >>




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