Sinking into bliss.
A kiss.
A silver penny
So many
On women and wine.
As Dowson searches, for love divine.

Pale lost lilies.
No words they speak
Will make him cease
In his search for peace.

Dowson died young.
No joy his lovings brung.
The same old song sung
Once more.
The hoare
Frost froze the poet, to the core.

Ernest Christopher Dowson was one of the Decadent or Catholic poets. Born in 1867 and dying in 1900 the poet spent a life full of wine, women and song, often seeking solace in the arms of the world’s oldest profession.
The reference to “Lilies” refers to Dowson’s fine poem, “Cynara” (

7 thoughts on “Dowson

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