And when, at callow-time, you think to find
The sparrow’s stationary chirp, lo! bursts
Voyaging voice to glorify the Spring.’
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“Why have you silent been so long?”
Know you not, kindly friend, that SongIs the “Gay Science,” not a task?It is but when it pleaseth GodThe blackthorn blows, the acorns fall;The Muse ignores a mortal’s nod,And will not come to beck and call.If I, to catch the ear of men,Should go on singing day by day,What other, better, were I then,Than screeching…
So you think he is defeated, O ye comfortably seated,
O ye fools! though justice tarry, yet by heaven broad and starry,Right, howe’er it may miscarry, ere the end arrive, prevails.And you think a wounded hero may hereafter count as zero,And that every desperate Nero rules the cities which he burns;That a wild steed caught and snaffled means a nation wholly baffled,And its future may…
I
IIWhere hast thou, Apollo, gone?I have wandered on and on,Through the shaggy Dorian gorges,Down from where Parnassus forgesThunder for the Phocian valleys;Where the Pleistus springs and salliesPast ravines and caverns dread,Have, like it, meanderëd;But I cannot see thee, hear thee,Find thee, feel thee, get anear thee.Though in quest of thee I go whereThou didst haunt,…
Should fickle hands in far-off days
And lips that once were proud to praiseForget to call thee fair,Sigh but my name, and though I beMute in the churchyard mould,I will arise and come to thee,And worship as of old.And should I meet the wrinkled brow,Or find the silver tress,What were’t to me, it would be thou,I could not love thee less.‘Gainst…
Think you that I will drain the dregs of Love,
Now by the steadfast burning stars above,Better to faint of thirst than thuswise drink.What! shall we twain who saw love’s glorious firesFlame toward the sky and flush Heaven’s self with light,Crouch by the embers as the glow expires,And huddle closer from mere dread of night?No! cast love’s goblet in oblivion’s well,Scatter love’s ashes o’er the…
Now do I know that Love is blind, for I
No life, no light, no hopefulness, no mirth,Pleasure nor purpose, when thou art not nigh.Thy absence exiles sunshine from the sky,Seres Spring’s maturity, checks Summer’s birth,Leaves linnet’s pipe as sad as plover’s cry,And makes me in abundance find but dearth.But when thy feet flutter the dark, and thouWith orient eyes dawnest on my distress,Suddenly sings…