Poems by Arthur Symons

Poems by Arthur Symons

White Heliotrope, by Arthur Symons

The feverish room and that white bed,
The tumbled skirts upon a chair,
The novel flung half-o...

Stella Maligna, by Arthur Symons

My little slave!
Wouldst thou escape me? Only in the grave.   I will be poison to thee, h...

Stella Maris, by Arthur Symons

Why is it I remember yet
You, of all women one has met
In random wayfare, as one meets
The c...

The Temptation of Saint Anthony, by Arthur Symons

After a design by Fé licien Rops The Cross, the Cross is tainted! O most Just,
Be merc...

To a Dancer, by Arthur Symons

Her eyes across the footlights gleam,
(The wine of love, the wine of dream)

To a Gitana Dancing, by Arthur Symons

Because you are fair as souls of the lost are fair,
And your eyelids laugh with desire, and yo...

To Muriel: At the Opera, by Arthur Symons

Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled between your breasts to-night,
And, lying there...

To Night, by Arthur Symons

I have loved wind and light,
And the bright sea,
But, holy and most secret Night,
Not as I...

To One in Alienation, by Arthur Symons

I Last night I saw you decked to meet
The coming of those most reluctant feet:
The little bon...

Toys, by Arthur Symons

I have laid you away as we lay
The toys of a little dead child,
You know you are safe in my he...

The Wood-Nymph, by Arthur Symons

After a picture by Burne Jones The green leaves, ah, the green leaves cover me:
Would I migh...

White Magic, by Arthur Symons

Against the world I closed my heart,
And, half in pride and half in fear,
I said to Love and...

A Winter Night, by Arthur Symons

The pale moon shining from a pallid sky
Lit half the street, and over half she laid
Her folded...

Variations Upon Love, by Arthur Symons

I For God's sake, let me love you, and give over
These tedious protestations of a lover;

The Unloved, by Arthur Symons

These are the women whom no man has loved.
Year after year, day after day has moved.
These hea...