Portia（To Ellen Terry）I marvel not Bassanio was so boldTo peril all he had upon the lead，Or that proud Aragon bent low his headOr that Morocco's f...
Queen Henrietta Maria（To Ellen Terry）In the lone tent， waiting for victory，She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain，Like some wan lily overdre...
Camma（To Ellen Terry）As one who poring on a Grecian urnScans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made，God with slim goddess， goodly man with maid，And...
PantheaNay， let us walk from fire unto fire，From passionate pain to deadlier delight， -I am too young to live without desire，Too young art thou to was...
Impression - Le ReveillonThe sky is laced with fitful red，The circling mists and shadows flee，The dawn is rising from the sea，Like a white lady from h...
ApologiaIs it thy will that I should wax and wane，Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey，And at thy pleasure weave that web of painWhose brightest th...
Quia Multum AmaviDear Heart， I think the young impassioned priestWhen first he takes from out the hidden shrineHis God imprisoned in the Eucharist，And...
Silentium AmorisAs often-times the too resplendent sunHurries the pallid and reluctant moonBack to her sombre cave， ere she hath wonA single ballad fr...
Her VoiceThe wild bee reels from bough to boughWith his furry coat and his gauzy wing，Now in a lily-cup， and nowSetting a jacinth bell a-swing，In his ...
My VoiceWithin this restless， hurried， modern worldWe took our hearts' full pleasure - You and I，And now the white sails of our ship are furled，An...