Short Poems

How luxuriant the young foliage,
Leaving only Mount Fuji unburied!

Of all stars the fairest .
Bride, teeming with rosy loves, bride, fairest image of the goddess of Paphos, go to the couch, go to the bed, softly sporting, sweet to the bridegroom. May Hesperus lead thee rejoicing, honouring Hera of the silver throne, goddess of marriage .

O love! who gave thee thy superfluous name?
Loving and dying — is it not the same?

Where shaken shallows multiply the moon,
Alone amid the silence laughs the Loon.
Heard far away across the night, he seems
Some happy wood-god laughing in his dreams.

It came and went with footsteps low,
A transient guest in this land of pain;
Wherefrom? whereto? we only know
From God's hands into His hands again.

Gay Bassus for ten thousand bought
A Tyrian robe of rich array,
And was a gainer. How? Be taught —
The prudent Bassus did not pay!

Small things and humble greatest lessons hold,
Which to the seeing eye they soon unfold —
As on some thorny road my way I pass
I get new courage from a blade of grass,
Which 'mid the turmoil and the weeds that kill
Holds fearlessly its course appointed still.

DEAR P OWELL ,

These funeral pomps, this incense of Arabian perfumes, these vivid torches, reminders are of these our fugitive days for us to weep the sins we have committed.
You, who amidst idleness and loves taste the impious and deceitful flatteries of the world, and lie drowsily among delights, you love shadows, you embrace air, you follow horrors!
Look, he that once, laden with amorous spoils, had scarlet in his cheeks, gold in his hair, now finds himself a dry and hideous skull.

In this dark and solitary valley, the stag that bellows to the water's roar bends his eyes upon the river and watches his image happily.
The Nymph of this stream every evening opens the portal of her crystal dwelling and sings a serenade to us.
The Nymphs, drawn by the chase to the shadow of these forests, seek the most hidden recesses far from the Satyr's lurking-place.
Once at the foot of this vast oak (almost as old as the very sun), Bacchus, Love and Sleep dug the grave of Silenus.