“They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for awhile, then closes… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine, But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire, Then falls thy shadow, Cynara!… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed Upon my soul between the kisses… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“Yea! for our roses fade, the world is wild; But there, beside the altar, there, is rest. -from "Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration” — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“I was not sorrowful, but only tired Of everything that ever I desired.” — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“Say, doth she weep for very wantonness? Or is it that she dimly doth foresee Across her youth the joys grow less and less… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“AUTUMNAL Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer: summer's loss Seems little,… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“I am not sorrowful but I am tired Of everything that I ever desired.” — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for awhile, then closes Within a… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
“Ah, Lalage! while life is ours, Hoard not thy beauty rose and white, But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers That deck our little path… — Ernest Dowson Copy Share Image
