Tranced with a tender enchantment; the yearning of passion
That wins immortality even while panting delirious with death.
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I
And her Good morning, Martin! Ay, lass, how d’ye do?Very well, thank you, Martin!-I can’t understand!I might just as well never have cobbled a shoe!I can’t understand it. She talks like a song;Her voice takes your ear like the ring of a glass;She seems to give gladness while limping along,Yet sinner ne’er suffer’d like that…
At dinner, she is hostess, I am host.
The Topic over intellectual deepsIn buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost.With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball:It is in truth a most contagious game:HIDING THE SKELETON, shall be its name.Such play as this the devils might appal!But here’s the greater wonder; in that we,Enamoured of an acting nought can tire,Each other, like true hypocrites, admire;Warm-lighted…
I
There is a rose that’s ready;And which of the handsome young men shall it be?There’s a rose that’s ready for clipping.My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:There is a rose that’s ready;Come, point me your finger on him that you see:There’s a rose that’s ready for clipping.O mother, my mother, it never can be:There…
On my darling’s bosom
Fair as brilliant HesperAgainst the brimming flood.She handles him,She dandles him,She fondles him and eyes him:And if upon a tear he wakes,With many a kiss she dries him:She covets every move he makes,And never enough can prize him.Ah, the young Usurper!I yield my golden throne:Such angel bands attend his handsTo claim it for his own.
Open horizons round,
Wherein shall walk a lusty Time:Our Earth is young;Of measure without bound;Infinite are the heights to climb,The depths to sound.A wilding little stubble flowerThe sickle scorned which cut for wheat,Such was our hope in that dark hourWhen nought save uses held the street,And daily pleasures, daily needs,With barren vision, looked ahead.And still the same result…
Violets, shy violets!
Who hide themselves in thickest green,And thence, unseen,Ravish the enraptured airWith sweetness, dewy fresh and rare!Violets, shy violets!Human hearts to me shall beViewless violets in the grass,And as I pass,Odours and sweet imageryWill wait on mine and gladden me!