To Psyche the poetic art;
Prosaic-pure her soul remain’d.
No wondrous sounds escaped her lyre
E’en in the fairest Summer night;
But Amor came with glance of fire,–
The lesson soon was learn’d aright.
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So the winter now closed round them
Over all his breath so icy,He inflamed each wind that blitheTo assail them angrily.Over them he gave dominionTo his frost-unsharpened tempests;Down to Timur’s council went he,And with threat’ning voice address’d him:–‘Softly, slowly, wretched being!Live, the tyrant of injustice;But shall hearts be scorch’d much longerBy thy flames,–consume before them?If amongst the evil spiritsThou art one,–good! I’m…
WITH what inward joy, sweet lay,
Lovingly thou seem’st to sayThat I’m ever by his side;That he ever thinks of me,That he to the absent givesAll his love’s sweet ecstasy,While for him alone she lives.Yes, the mirror which revealsThee, my loved one, is my breast;This the bosom, where thy sealsEndless kisses have impress’d.Numbers sweet, unsullied truth,Chain me down in sympathy!Love’s embodied…
HEART! my heart! what means this feeling?
What strange life is o’er me stealing!I acknowledge thee no more.Fled is all that gave thee gladness,Fled the cause of all thy sadness,Fled thy peace, thine industry-Ah, why suffer it to be?Say, do beauty’s graces youthful,Does this form so fair and bright,Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful,Chain thee with unceasing might?Would I tear me…
THE three holy kings with their star’s bright ray,–
They like to eat and drink away,They eat and drink, but had rather not pay.The three holy kings have all come here,In number not four, but three they appear;And if a fourth join’d the other three,Increased by one their number would be.The first am I,–the fair and the white,I ought to be seen when the…
THE queen in the lofty hall takes her place,
She speaks to the page: ‘With a nimble paceGo, fetch me my purse for gaming.‘Tis lying, I’ll pledge,On my table’s edge.’Each nerve the nimble boy straineth,And the end of the castle soon gaineth.The fairest of maidens was sipping sherbetBeside the queen that minute;Near her mouth broke the cup,–and she got so wet!The very devil seem’d…
HALF vex’d, half pleased, thy love will feel,
To thee they’re much–I won’t conceal;Such self-deceit may pardon’d be;A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings,In truth are no mean trifling things,But still they’re not enough for me.She who is dearest to my heart,Gave me, with well dissembled smart,Of her own life, a living part,No charm in aught beside I trace;How do I scorn thy paltry…