To One On A Journey

Why did you go away without one word,
    Wave of the hand, or token of good-bye,
Nor leave some message for me with flower or bird,
    Some sign to find you by;

Some stray of blossom on the winter road,
    To know your feet had gone that very way,
Told me the star that points to your abode,
    And tossed me one faint ray

To climb from out the night where now I dwell -
    Or, seemed it best for you to go alone
To heaven, as alone I go to hell
    Upon the four winds blown.

Richard Le Gallienne

Richard Le Gallienne was an English author and poet born on January 20, 1866. Known for his lyrical poetry, he was a key figure in the literary circles of the fin de siècle. He contributed to the literary magazine 'The Yellow Book' and was involved with the Rhymers' Club, an influential group of London-based poets. His works often explored themes of beauty, love, and nature. His influence extended to both sides of the Atlantic, and he spent the latter part of his life in the United States, where he continued to write until his death on September 15, 1947.

Richard Le Gallienne

Time, Beauty's Friend

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

The World Is Wide

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

All The Way

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

Juliet And Her Romeo

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

English

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In A Season Of Bereavement.

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To A Dead Friend

And is it true indeed, and must you go,
Set out alone across that moorland track,
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And all our eyes grow empty for your lack,
Nor hands, nor eyes, know aught of you again.

Dear friend, I shed no tear while yet you stayed,
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For what can tears avail you? the spring rain
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Paths That Wind . . .

Paths that wind
O'er the hills and by the streams
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Song Of The Going Away.

"Old man, upon the green hillside,
With yellow flowers besprinkled o'er,
How long in silence wilt thou bide
At this low stone door?

"I stoop: within 'tis dark and still;
But shadowy paths methinks there be,
And lead they far into the hill?"
"Traveller, come and see."

"'Tis dark, 'tis cold, and hung with gloom;
I care not now within to stay;
For thee and me is scarcely room,
I will hence away."

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Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 - XIV. - The Cuckoo At Laverna - May 25, 1837

List 'twas the Cuckoo. O with what delight
Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though faint,
Far off and faint, and melting into air,
Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again!
Those louder cries give notice that the Bird,
Although invisible as Echo's self,
Is wheeling hitherward. Thanks, happy Creature,
For this unthought-of greeting!
        
While allured
From vale to hill, from hill to vale led on,
We have pursued, through various lands, a long
And pleasant course; flower after flower has blown,
Embellishing the ground that gave them birth
With aspects novel to my sight; but still
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To H. W. Longfellow - Before His Departure For Europe, May 27, 1868

Our Poet, who has taught the Western breeze
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Where shall the singing bird a stranger be
That finds a nest for him in every tree?
How shall he travel who can never go
Where his own voice the echoes do not know,
Where his own garden flowers no longer learn to grow?

Ah! gentlest soul! how gracious, how benign
Breathes through our troubled life that voice of thine,
Filled with a sweetness born of happier spheres,
That wins and warms, that kindles, softens, cheers,
That calms the wildest woe and stays the bitterest tears!

Forgive the simple words that sound li...

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