Amans Amare

A cottage small be mine, with porch
Enwreathed with ivy green,
And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,
’Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,
With eyes as fountain clear,
And braided hair, and simple dress,
My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,
And talk o’er early vows,
While stars look down like angels’ eyes
Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells,
And bright-winged parrots call,
In forest paths be ours to rove
Till purple evenings fall.

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poem by Daniel Henry Deniehy
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To His Wife

O Pure of soul, and fond and deep of heart
For those who darkened be,
Lift up thy holy voice, at morn and eve,
And pray for me,—

For me, who for this thronging world’s hot strife
A prize hath brought to be
Among the known—but sweet too dearly earned;
Ah, pray for me.

Not aye the scholar’s path a track of peace,
Nor from the dread sins free;
Hard by the Isles of Truth doth Circe prowl;
Oh, pray for me.

The spirits’ hell-gloom and its hurricane
Round studious cells may be;
Thou patient Moon of Memory’s dreary sky,
Oh, pray for me.

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poem by Daniel Henry Deniehy
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Love in a Cottage

A cottage small be mine, with porch
   Enwreathed with ivy green,
And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,
   'Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,
   With eyes as fountain clear,
And braided hair, and simple dress,
   My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,
   And talk o'er early vows,
While stars look down like angels' eyes
   Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells,
   And bright-winged parrots call,
In forest paths be ours to rove
   Till purple evenings fall.

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poem by Daniel Henry Deniehy
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A Song for the Night

O the Night, the Night, the solemn Night,
   When Earth is bound with her silent zone,
And the spangled sky seems a temple wide,
   Where the star-tribes kneel at the Godhead's throne;
O the Night, the Night, the wizard Night,
   When the garish reign of day is o'er,
And the myriad barques of the dream-elves come
   In a brightsome fleet from Slumber's shore!
   O the Night for me,
   When blithe and free,
Go the zephyr-hounds on their airy chase;
   When the moon is high
   In the dewy sky,
And the air is sweet as a bride's embrace!

O the Night, the Night, the charming Night!
   From the fountain side in the myrtle shade,
All softly creep on the slumbrous air
   The waking notes of the serenade;
While bright eyes shine 'mid the lattice-vines,

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poem by Daniel Henry Deniehy
Added by Poetry Lover
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