“Or sit they girt by laws unknown Whereto the senses serve as bars – With fire of unrecorded stars That light a heaven not our own? (“The Testimony of the Suns”)” — George Sterling Copy Share Image
What silence rules the ghostly hours That guard the close of human sleep! — George Sterling Copy Share
Within its gates I heard the sound Of winds in cypress caverns caught Of huddling tress that moaned, and sought To whisper what their… — George Sterling Copy Share
“The pathway traced with blood and tears, and dust of all our father's dead, Whose backward footsteps, wandering, red, Fade to the mist of… — George Sterling Copy Share
“A little while, their hunger unfulfilled, The mothlike worlds flit 'round the guttering sun. ("Ephemera")” — George Sterling Copy Share
Thy Banners gleam a little, and are furled; Against thy turrets surge His phantom tow'rs; Drugged with his Opiates the nations nod, Refusing still… — George Sterling Copy Share
And starward drifts the stricken world, Lone in unalterable gloom Dead, with a universe for tomb, Dark, and to vaster darkness whirled. (“The Testimony… — George Sterling Copy Share
O Space and Time and stars at strife, How dreadful your infinity! Shrined by your termless trinity, How strange, how terrible, is life! (“The… — George Sterling Copy Share
And fragile is thy tenure of this world Still haunted by the monstrous ghost of God. ("To Science") — George Sterling Copy Share
“When sunset, like a crimson throat to hell, is cavernous... (“A Wine of Wizardry”)” — George Sterling Copy Share
The candle glimmers but an hour. The night Looms in its ancient hunger. Would you know The tragedy of human love and need? Gaze… — George Sterling Copy Share
“Till her appointed course be run; Till on the darkness faint her breath Flown to the silent void, and Death Sit crowned upon the… — George Sterling Copy Share
“Or sit they girt by laws unknown Whereto the senses serve as bars – With fire of unrecorded stars That light a heaven not… — George Sterling Copy Share
“Where got she her sullen mouth And where her swaying form? Would she live on eggs and apples When the blood of men is… — George Sterling Copy Share
