Thus thy fate’s the same, be sure,
Whether bold or modest thou.
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YE black and roguish eyes,
Each house in ruins lies,No town can stand.And shall my bosom’s chain,–This plaster wall,To think one moment, deign,–Shall I not fall?
‘THE mountain village was destroy’d;
Shingles and boards, as by magic arise,The babe in his cradle and swaddling-clothes lies;How blest to trust to God’s protection!’Behold a wooden new erection,So that, if sparks and wind but choose,God’s self at such a game must lose!
Locks of brown, still bind your captive
I, beloved sinuous tresses,Naught possess that’s worth your grace-But a heart whose love enduringSwells in youthful fervor yet:Snow and mists envelop Etna,Making men the fire forget.Yonder mountain’s pride so statelyThou dost shame like dawn’s red glow;And its spell once more bids HatemThrill of spring and summer know.Once more fill the glass, the flagon!Let me drink…
TRANSPLANT the beauteous tree!
A happier resting-placeIts trunk deserved.Yet the strength of its natureTo Earth’s exhausting avarice,To Air’s destructive inroads,An antidote opposed.See how it in springtimeCoins its pale green leaves!Their orange-fragrancePoisons each flyblow straight.The caterpillar’s toothIs blunted by them;With silv’ry hues they gleamIn the bright sunshine,Its twigs the maidenFain would twine inHer bridal-garland;Youths its fruit are seeking.See, the autumn…
How plain and height
How pearls have crown’dThe plants all around!How sighs the breezeThro’ thicket and trees!How loudly in the sun’s clear raysThe sweet birds carol forth their lays!But, ah! above,Where saw I my love,Within her room,Small, mantled in gloom,Enclosed around,Where sunlight was drown’d,How little there was earth to me,With all its beauteous majesty!
THROUGH rain, through snow,
‘Mongst streaming caves,O’er misty waves,On, on! still on!Peace, rest have flown!Sooner through sadnessI’d wish to be slain,Than all the gladnessOf life to sustainAll the fond yearningThat heart feels for heart,Only seems burningTo make them both smart.How shall I fly?Forestwards hie?Vain were all strife!Bright crown of life.Turbulent bliss,–Love, thou art this!