Love, which is lust, is the Lamp in the Tomb. Love, which is lust, is the Call from the Gloom. Love, which is lust, is the Main of Desire. Love, which is lust, is the Centric Fire. So man and… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share Image
“It matters not how strait the gate. How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate. I am the captain… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Life is a smoke that curls- Curls in a flickering skein, That winds and whisks and whirls, A figment thin and vain, Into the… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Into the winter's gray delight, Into the summer's golden dream, Holy and high and impartial, Death, the mother of Life, Mingles all men for… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Behold me waiting—waiting for the knife… The thick, sweet mystery of chloroform, The drunken dark, the little death-in-life… [F]ace to face with chance, I… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Madam Life's a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: she's the tenant of the room, he's the ruffian on the stair. — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Shakespeare and Rembrandt have in common the faculty of quickening speculation and compelling the minds of men to combat and discussion. — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Who but knows How it goes! Life's a last year's Nightingale, Love's a last year's rose. — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Or ever the knightly years were gone, with the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon and you were a… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
And lo, the Hospital, gray, quiet, old, Where life and death like friendly chafferers meet. — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Now, to read poetry at all is to have an ideal anthology of one's own, and in that possession to be incapable of content… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
Were I so tall as to reach the pole or grasp the ocean at a span, I must be measured by my soul. The… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
So be my passing! My task accomplished and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share
