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Emmanuel George Cefai

And In Their Buds The Flowers Hide

And in their buds the flowers hide
The beauty of the future
So my grief:
It hides in it
The future of beauty.

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It Trickles

It trickles
It trickles
It trickles red
This night

How weary
The light
This night

How still
How still
And red
The night.

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I Have Been Friend To The Muse

‘I have been friend to the Muse
‘But my son you must do that’

I know, I know my father
I have to be a father, father

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How sick the plaintive violin

how sick the plaintive violin
even more so when long long-drawn
its drawl how plaintive is, how sick:
even when less slow it is drawn
the plaintive notes still flow, still sick
and in the night, the long dark night
still plays the plaintive violin.

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How Leaden-Eyed The Sky To-Day

How leaden-eyed the sky to-day
Looks at Valletta:
Surely, surely unexpected quite
This May.

How gay, how gay
The day must have been
How sad, how sad the day
This May.

Ah! so our hopes so gay
They ought to so have flowered
But how sad how sad they lie
This May.

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How Sad, How Sad

How sad how sad
The parting:
How without word
The farewell!

How sad how sad
That without word
Without a tear
The farewell came!

And time will come
And time will pass
As if
It had not come or passed
But ah! but ah!
The farewell, the last farewell
Will not pass.

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The Sick Wind Moans, Moans The Sick Wind

The sick wind moans, moans the sick wind
There mystery lies in its every moan:
It tells all and nothing yet it tells
How careful hides it the secret in its breast.

The old oak hears the sick wind
And hearing it understands its own
And weeps the old oak without a cry.

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How Large – How Large

How large – how large
The pale moon smiles:
The pale round moon
How does it smile
And smile.

Its cheek a little less
Wan and austere:
And veins – thin veins
Of red do seem to flush
The round moon’s face.

And on its bosom
The dark sea
Bears the moon’s face
All silvery.

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This Night I Saw

This night I saw
Fear fleeing over the ramparts of the Night
Into the suicide sea that waited it.

This night I saw
The cheeks of Fear yellow-pale
Into the suicide sea wherein it leapt.

This night I saw
The corpse of Fear floating in the dark
Into the suicide sea wherein that waited it.

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What Fire Burns As Hot And Scalds

What fire burns as hot and scalds
As Love’s fire?
Ah! Love ah! fire - how
Love scalds every piece of skin
Warming it to burning with touch invisible

And yet
The fire of Love does good to me
And abates not
When chill and frost do come
And rains on the casement come
And from on high hang white icicles.

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