#ernest dowson

[primulaceas]

[raulovsky]

"Memento Mori"

“VITAE SUMMA BREVIS SPEM NOS VETAT INCOHARE LONGAM” BY ERNEST DOWSON (1867–1900)

"They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,

Love and desire and hate:

I think they have no portion in us after

We pass the gate.

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

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then closes

Within a dream."

[arsenic-lobster]

"But I was desolate and sick of an old passion, / When I awoke and found the dawn was gray" (Ernest Dowson)

[companion piece to the previous]

[explorearound]

pale amber sunlight falls across / the reddening October trees, that hardly sway before a breeze / as soft as summer : summer's loss / seems little dear! on days like these.

- Ernest Dowson

by Nelleke

[dzgrizzle]

Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam by Ernest Dowson (1867-1900)

The brief sum of life forbids us the hope of enduring long. ~ Horace

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream.

[lepetitdragonvert]

THE MOON MAIDEN’S SONG

Sleep ! Cast thy canopy

Over this sleeper’s brain,

Dim grow his memory,

When he wake again.

Love stays a summer night,

Till lights of morning come ;

Then takes her winged flight

Back to her starry home.

Sleep ! Yet thy days are mine ;

Love’s seal is over thee :

Far though my ways from thine,

Dim though thy memory.

Love stays a summer night,

Till lights of morning come ;

Then takes her winged flight

Back to her starry home.

Ernest Christopher Dowson

[blitzschnitz]

Ernest Dowson ‚Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam‘

Noted by T.E. Lawrence in his collection ‚Minorities’

[seasons-in-hell]

We fling up flowers and laugh, we laugh across the wine;

With wine we dull our souls and careful strains of art;

Our cups are polished skulls round which the roses twine:

None dares to look at Death who leers and lurks apart.