Like labour-laden moonclouds faint to flee From winds that sweep the winter-bitten wold,-- Like multiform circumfluence manifold Of night's flood-tide,--like terrors that agree Of hoarse-tongued fire and inarticulate sea,-- Even such, within some glass dimm'd by our breath, Our hearts discern wild images of Death, Shadows and shoals that edge eternity.
Howbeit athwart Death's imminent shade doth soar One Power, than flow of stream or flight of dove
Not in thy body is thy life at all But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes; Through these she yields thee life that vivifies What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall. Look on thyself without her, and recall The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise That liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair Which, stor'd apart, is all love hath to show
Sometimes she is a child within mine arms, Cowering beneath dark wings that love must chase,-- With still tears showering and averted face, Inexplicably fill'd with faint alarms: And oft from mine own spirit's hurtling harms I crave the refuge of her deep embrace,-- Against all ills the fortified strong place And sweet reserve of sovereign counter-charms.
And Love, our light at night and shade at noon, Lulls us to rest with songs, and turns away
Lo d{`i} che han detto a' dolci amici addio. DANTE
Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci! PETRARCA Come back to me, who wait and watch for you:-- Or come not yet, for it is over then, And long it is before you come again, So far between my pleasures are and few. While, when you come not, what I do I do Thinking "Now when he comes," my sweetest when:" For one man is my world of all the men This wide world holds; O love, my world is you.
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
A pity it is evening, yet I do love the water of this spring seeing how clear it is, how clean; rays of sunset gleam on it, lighting up its ripples, making it one with those who travel the roads; I turn and face the moon; sing it a song, then listen to the sound of the wind amongst the pines.