The Surges Gushed And Sounded

The surges gushed and sounded,
The blue was the blue of June,
And low above the brightening east
Floated a shred of moon.

The woods were black and solemn,
The night winds large and free,
And in your thought a blessing seemed
To fall on land and sea.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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Kate-A-Whimsies, John-A-Dream

Kate-a-Whimsies, John-a-Dream
Still debating, still delay,
And the world’s a ghost that gleams –
Wavers – vanishes away!

We must live while live we can;
We should love while love we may.
Dread in women, doubt in men…
So the Infinite runs away.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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Thick Is The Darkness

Thick is the darkness -
Sunward, O, sunward!
Rough is the highway -
Onward, still onward!

Dawn harbours surely
East of the shadows.
Facing us somewhere
Spread the sweet meadows.

Upward and forward!
Time will restore us:
Light is above us,
Rest is before us.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Sea Is Full Of Wandering Foam

The sea is full of wandering foam,
The sky of driving cloud;
My restless thoughts among them roam . . .
The night is dark and loud.

Where are the hours that came to me
So beautiful and bright?
A wild wind shakes the wilder sea . . .
O, dark and loud's the night!

poem by William Ernest Henley
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A Wink From Hesper

A wink from Hesper, falling
Fast in the wintry sky,
Comes through the even blue,
Dear, like a word from you…
Is it good-bye?

Across the miles between us
I send you sigh for sigh.
Good-Night, sweet friend, good-night:
Till life and all take flight,
Never good-bye.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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While The West Is Paling

While the west is paling
Starshine is begun.
While the dusk is failing
Glimmers up the sun.

So, till darkness cover
Life's retreating gleam,
Lover follows lover,
Dream succeeds to dream.

Stoop to my endeavour,
O my love, and be
Only and for ever
Sun and stars to me.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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She Saunters By The Swinging Seas

She sauntered by the swinging seas,
A jewel glittered at her ear,
And, teasing her along, the breeze
Brought many a rounded grace more near.

So passing, one with wave and beam,
She left for memory to caress
A laughing thought, a golden gleam,
A hint of hidden loveliness.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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London Types: The Artist Muses At His Ease

The Artist muses at his ease,
Contented that his work is done,
And smiling-smiling!-as he sees
His crowd collecting, one by one.
Alas! his travail's but begun!
None, none can keep the years in line,
And what to Ninety-Eight is fun
May raise the gorge of Ninety-Nine!

poem by William Ernest Henley
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We Shall Surely Die

We shall surely die:
Must we needs grow old?
Grow old and cold,
And we know not why?

O, the By-and-By,
And the tale that’s told!
We shall surely die:
Must we needs grow old?

Grow old and sigh,
Grudge and withhold,
Resent and scold?…
Not you and I?
We shall surely die!

poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Nightingale Has A Lyre Of Gold

The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion-call,
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,
But I love him best of all.

For his song is all of the joy of life,
And we in the mad, spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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