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Страница 137 - In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the Robin's breast ; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest ; In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Страница 140 - Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain ; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain : I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. " Love, art thou sweet ? then bitter death must be: Love, thou art bitter ; sweet is death to me.
Страница 142 - When eternity confirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard ; Enough that he heard it once : we shall hear it by and by.
Страница 139 - Were there no bonny dames at home, Or no true lovers here, That he should cross the seas to win The dearest of the dear? I saw thee, lovely Ines, Descend along...
Страница 140 - Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song, With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng ; But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long.
Страница 332 - But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Страница 332 - Save base authority from others' books. • These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Страница 139 - Ines" had always, for me, an inexpressible charm: O saw ye not fair Ines! She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest: She took our daylight with her, The smiles that we love best, With morning blushes on her cheek. And pearls upon her breast.
Страница 138 - Love took up the glass of time, and turned it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might ; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.