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Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson


Villanelle of Marguerite's


    "A little, passionately, not at all?"
    She casts the snowy petals on the air:
  And what care we how many petals fall!

    Nay, wherefore seek the seasons to forestall?
    It is but playing, and she will not care,
  A little, passionately, not at all!

    She would not answer us if we should call
    Across the years: her visions are too fair;
  And what care we how many petals fall!

    She knows us not, nor recks if she enthrall
    With voice and eyes and fashion of her hair,
  A little, passionately, not at all!

    Knee-deep she goes in meadow grasses tall,
    Kissed by the daisies that her fingers tear:
  And what care we how many petals fall!

    We pass and go: but she shall not recall
    What men we were, nor all she made us bear:
  "A little, passionately, not at all!"
  And what care we how many petals fall!



Ernest Christopher Dowson


Ernest Christopher Dowson's other poems:
  1. Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
  2. Soli Cantare Periti Arcades
  3. Epigram
  4. Vain Resolves
  5. Amor Umbratilis

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