You pick it up, and say “How fair
To look upon its colors are!”
Another drops day after day
Unheeded; not one word you say.
When bright and dusky are blown past,
Upon the hearse there nods the last.
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The chrysolites and rubies Bacchus brings
Where maidens blush at what the minstrel sings,They who have coveted may covet now.Bring me, in cool alcove, the grape uncrush’d,The peach of pulpy cheek and down mature,Where every voice (but bird’s or child’s) is hush’d,And every thought, like the brook nigh, runs pure.
Smiles soon abate; the boisterous throes
Inconstantly the south-wind blows,But steadily the north.Thy star, O Venus! often changesIts radiant seat above,The chilling pole-star never ranges —‘Tis thus with Hate and Love.
THERE is a flower I wish to wear,
Heartsease—of all earth’s flowers most rare;Bring it; and bring enough for two.
RHAICOS was born amid the hills wherefrom
And small are the white-crested that play near,And smaller onward are the purple waves.Thence festal choirs were visible, all crown’dWith rose and myrtle if they were inborn;If from Pandion sprang they, on the coastWhere stern Athenè rais’d her citadel,Then olive was entwin’d with violetsCluster’d in bosses, regular and large;For various men wore various coronals,But one…
Damaetas is a boy as rue
He watcht the little Ida goingWhere the wood-raspberries were growing,And, under a pretence of fearLest they might scratch her arms, drew near,And, plucking up a stiff grey bent,The fruit (scarce touching it,) he sentInto both hands: the form they tookOf a boat’s keel upon a brook;So not a raspberry fell downTo splash her foot or…
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever.