Ernest Dowson

“To hell with sense! We're all crazy. What do we want with sense?”

— Ernest Dowson

I understand that absinthe makes the tart grow fonder.

— Ernest Dowson

“I was not sorrowful, but only tired Of everything that ever I desired.”

— Ernest Dowson

And I was desolate and sick of an old passion.

— Ernest Dowson

“I am not sorrowful but I am tired Of everything that I ever desired.”

— Ernest Dowson

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine...

— Ernest Dowson

They are not long, the days of wine and roses.

— Ernest Dowson

“Ah, God, that sweet things should decline, And fires fade out which were not cold," -from "Jadis”

— Ernest Dowson

“They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for awhile, then closes…

— Ernest Dowson

They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then…

— Ernest Dowson

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine, But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire, Then falls thy…

— Ernest Dowson

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter. Love and desire and hate; I think they have no portion in us…

— Ernest Dowson

“Yea! for our roses fade, the world is wild; But there, beside the altar, there, is rest. -from "Nuns of the Perpetual…

— Ernest Dowson

Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees… Are we not better and at home In dreamful Autumn, we who deem…

— Ernest Dowson

“I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost…

— Ernest Dowson

“Ah, Lalage! while life is ours, Hoard not thy beauty rose and white, But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers That deck our…

— Ernest Dowson

“Say, doth she weep for very wantonness? Or is it that she dimly doth foresee Across her youth the joys grow less…

— Ernest Dowson

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed Upon my soul between…

— Ernest Dowson

“They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us…

— Ernest Dowson

“There comes an end to summer, To spring showers and hoar rime; His mumming to each mummer Has somewhere end in time,…

— Ernest Dowson

“I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost…

— Ernest Dowson

“AUTUMNAL Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer: summer's loss…

— Ernest Dowson

“When this, our rose, is faded, And these, our days, are done, In lands profoundly shaded From tempest and from sun: Ah,…

— Ernest Dowson