When once from our possession they must pass;
But love, though misdirected, is among
The things which are immortal, and surpass
All that frail stuff which will be–or which was.
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‘What art thou, Presumptuous, who profanest
Even whilst like a forgotten moon thou wanest?Touch not those leaves which for the eternal fewWho wander o’er the Paradise of fame,In sacred dedication ever grew:One of the crowd thou art without a name.’‘Ah, friend, ’tis the false laurel that I wear;Bright though it seem, it is not the sameAs that which bound Milton’s immortal…
Dear home, thou scene of earliest hopes and joys,
Bitterer than all thine unremembered tears.
Art thou indeed forever gone,
Must this poor bosom beat alone,Or beat at all, if not for thee?Ah! why was love to mortals given,To lift them to the height of Heaven,Or dash them to the depths of Hell?Yet I do not reproach thee, dear!Ah, no! the agonies that swellThis panting breast, this frenzied brain,Might wake my –‘s slumb’ring tear.Oh! Heaven…
O universal Mother, who dost keep
Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,All things that fly, or on the ground divineLive, move, and there are nourished—these are thine;These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from theeFair babes are born, and fruits on every treeHang ripe and large, revered Divinity!The life of…
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away!Tempt not with one last tear thy friend’s ungentle mood:Thy lover’s eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.Away, away! to…
EPODE 1a.
And heard the autumnal leaves like light footfallsOf spirits passing through the streets; and heardThe Mountain’s slumberous voice at intervalsThrill through those roofless halls;The oracular thunder penetrating shookThe listening soul in my suspended blood;I felt that Earth out of her deep heart spoke–I felt, but heard not:—through white columns glowedThe isle-sustaining ocean-flood,A plane of light…