TO ---- .

    "Lydia, dic, per omnes
Te deos oro!"


I

What are the subtleties
Which woo me in her eyes
To oaths she deems but lies,
I can not tell, I can not tell,
    Nor will she.
They are beyond my thought.
For when I gaze I'm nought,
My senses all unwrought,
It is not well, it is not well,
    Now Lily!


II

What is the magic sweet
Which makes hot pulses beat,
A wayward tongue repeat
A name for weeks, a name for weeks
    Will, nill he?
Ai me! the pleasant pain
Falls sweetly on the brain
Like some slow sunny rain,
Whene'er she speaks, whene'er she speaks
    This Lily.


III

What is the witchery rare
Which snares me in her hair
So deeply that I dare,
I dare not move, I dare not move, -
    Lie stilly?
In looks and winning ways
The bloom of love she lays
Like fire on all my days,
And makes me love, and makes me love
    This Lily.

Madison Julius Cawein

Madison Julius Cawein was born on March 23, 1865, in Louisville, Kentucky and died on December 8, 1914. Known as the “Keats of Kentucky,” his poetry often focused on nature, mythology, and the lush landscapes of his home state. Throughout his lifetime, Cawein published more than 30 books of poetry. He is remembered for his vivid and descriptive style and his ability to capture the beauty of the natural world. His works provide a window into the pastoral and often mystical world of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Madison Julius Cawein

Pestilence.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

To Autumn.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

The Ohio Falls.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

Contrasts.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

English

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Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Love In A Garden.

I.

Between the rose's and the canna's crimson,
Beneath her window in the night I stand;
The jeweled dew hangs little stars, in rims, on
The white moonflowers each a spirit hand
That points the path to mystic shadowland.

Awaken, sweet and fair!
And add to night try grace!
Suffer its loveliness to share
The white moon of thy face,
The darkness of thy hair.
Awaken, sweet and fair!

II.

A moth, like down, swings on th' althæa's pistil,
Ghost of a tone that haunts its bell's deep dome;
And in the August-lily's cone of crystal
A firefly blurs, the lantern of a gnome,
Green as a gem that gleams through hollow foam.

Approach! the moment flies!
Thou sweetheart of the South!
Come! mingle with night's mysteries
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Madison Julius Cawein

Senorita

An agate-black, your roguish eyes
Claim no proud lineage of the skies,
No starry blue; but of good earth
The reckless witchery and mirth.

Looped in your raven hair's repose,
A hot aroma, one red rose
Dies; envious of that loveliness,
By being near which its is less.

Twin sea shells, hung with pearls, your ears,
Whose slender rosiness appears
Part of the pearls; whose pallid fire
Binds the attention these inspire.

One slim hand crumples up the lace
About your bosom's swelling grace;
A ruby at your samite throat
Lends the required color note.

The moon bears through the violet night
A pearly urn of chaliced light;
And from your dark-railed balcony
You stoop and wave your fan at me.

O'er orange orchards and the ros...

Madison Julius Cawein

Senorita

An agate-black, your roguish eyes
Claim no proud lineage of the skies,
No starry blue; but of good earth
The reckless witchery and mirth.
Looped in your raven hair's repose,
A hot aroma, one red rose
Dies; envious of that loveliness,
By being near which its is less.

Twin sea shells, hung with pearls, your ears,
Whose slender rosiness appears
Part of the pearls; whose pallid fire
Binds the attention these inspire.
One slim hand crumples up the lace
About your bosom's swelling grace;
A ruby at your samite throat
Lends the required color note.

The moon bears through the violet night
A pearly urn of chaliced light;
And from your dark-railed balcony
You stoop and wave your fan at me.
O'er orange orchards and the rose
Vague, odor...

Madison Julius Cawein

Senorita.

An agate black thy roguish eyes
Claim no proud lineage of skies,
No velvet blue, but of sweet Earth,
Rude, reckless witchery and mirth.

Looped in thy raven hair's repose,
A hot aroma, one tame rose
Dies envious of that beauty where, -
By being near which, - it is fair.

Thy ears, - two dainty bits of song
Of unpretending charm, which wrong
Would jewels rich, whose restless fire
Courts coarse attention, - such inspire.

Slim hands, that crumple listless lace
About thy white breasts' swelling grace,
And falter at thy samite throat,
To such harmonious efforts float.

Seven stars stop o'er thy balcony
Cored in taunt heaven's canopy;
No moon flows up the satin night
In pearl-pierced raiment spun of light.

From orange o...

Madison Julius Cawein

The Troubadour.

He stood where all the rare voluptuous West,
Like some mad Maenad wine-stained to the breast,
Shot from delirious lips of ruby must
Long, fierce, triumphant smiles wherein hot lust
Swam like a feverish wine exultant tost
High from a golden goblet and so lost.
And all the West, and all the rosy West,
Bathed his frail beauty, hair and throat and breast;
And there he bloomed, a thing of rose and snows,
A passion flower of men of snows and rose
Beneath the casement of her old red tower
Whereat the lady sat, as white a flower
As ever blew in Provence, and the lace,
Mist-like about her hair, half hid her face
And all its moods which his sweet singing raised,
Sad moods that censured it, sweet moods that praised.
And where the white rose climbing over and over
Up...

Madison Julius Cawein

Berrying

I.

My love went berrying
Where brooks were merrying
And wild wings ferrying
    Heaven's amethyst;
The wildflowers blessed her,
My dearest Hester,
The winds caressed her,
    The sunbeams kissed.


II.

I followed, carrying
Her basket; varying
Fond hopes of marrying
    With hopes denied;
Both late and early
She deemed me surly,
And bowed her curly
    Fair head and sighed:


III.

"The skies look lowery;
It will he showery;
No longer flowery
    The way I find.
No use in going.
'T will soon be snowing
If you keep growing
    Much more unkind."


IV.

Then looked up tearfully.
And I, all fearfully,
Replied, "My dear, fully
    Will I ex...

Madison Julius Cawein