To One in Bedlam

Ernest Dowson

Ernest Dowson portrait

1867 to 1900

Poem Image
Track 1

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Am I not fain of all thy lone eyes promise me;
With delicate, mad hands, behind his sordid bars,
All their days, vanity? Better than mortal flowers,
Half a fool's kingdom, far from men who sow and reap,
Those scentless wisps of straw that, miserable, line
Pedant and pitiful. O, how his rapt gaze wars
The star-crowned solitude of thine oblivious hours!
Surely he hath his posies, which they tear and twine;
His strait, caged universe, whereat the dull world stares.
O lamentable brother! if those pity thee,
Thy moon-kissed roses seem: better than love or sleep,
And make his melancholy germane to the stars'?
With their stupidity! Know they what dreams divine
Lift his long, laughing reveries like enchanted wine,

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Poet portrait