English

Fair is each budding thing the garden shows,
From spring's frail crocus to the latest bloom
Of fading autumn. Every wind that blows
Across that glowing tract sips rare perfume
From all the tangled blossoms tossing there;—
Soft winds, they fain would linger long, nor any farther fare.

The morning-glories ripple o'er the hedge
And fleck its greenness with their tinted foam;
Sweet wilding things, up to the garden's edge
They love to wander from their meadow home,
To take what little pleasure here they may

Fair Hope with lucent light in her glad eyes,
Fleet as Diana, through the meadow speeds;
Nor dewy rose nor asphodel she heeds,
For lo! unwonted radiance in the skies
Bids her not pause. The silv'ry shimmer lies
'Mid blooming vistas, whence the pathway leads
To heights aerial. The glow recedes
As panting Hope toils on, while awed surprise
Fills her sweet glances; will the vision fade
Ere she can reach it? Nay, 'tis lovelier far,
Rarer perspectives open to her gaze;
Then hasten on, expectantly, glad maid!

Fair gull on the water's bank,
Bright-plumed breast, well-provided,
Hawk does not seize or pursue,
Water drown, nor man own you.
Nun feasting on the ocean,
Green sea's corners' coarse-voiced girl,
Thrusting wide through the lake's neck;
And then shaking a herring,
Salt water's clear white sunlight,
You're the banner of the shore.
The blessed godchild are you,
Below the bank, of Neptune:
A sorrow for you, the change
Of your life, cold your christening,
Brave white bird in rough waters,

Fair flower of fifteen springs, that still
Art scarcely blossomed from the bud,
Yet hast such store of evil will,
A heart so full of hardihood,
Seeking to hide in friendly wise
The mischief of your mocking eyes.

If you have pity, child, give o'er,
Give back the heart you stole from me,
Pirate, setting so little store
On this your captive from Love's sea,
Holding his misery for gain,
And making pleasure of his pain.

Another, not so fair of face,
But far more pitiful than you,

Fair Danubie is praised for being wide;
Nilus commended for the sevenfold head;
Euphrates for the swiftness of the tide,
And for the garden whence his course is led;
The banks of Rhine with vines are overspread:
Take Loire and Po, yet all may not compare
With English Thamesis for buildings rare.

Fair cousin mine! the golden days
— Of old romance are over;
And minstrels now care naught for bays,
— Nor damsels for a lover;
And hearts are cold, and lips are mute
— That kindled once with passion,
And now we've neither lance nor lute,
— And tilting's out of fashion.

Yet weeping Beauty mourns the time
— When Love found words in flowers;
When softest sighs were breathed in rhyme,
— And sweetest songs in bowers;
Now wedlock is a sober thing —
— No more of chains or forges! —

Fair as the night — when all the astral fires
Of heaven are burning in the clear expanse,
My love is; and her eyes like star-depths glance
Lustrous with glowing thoughts and pure desires,
And that mysterious pathos which inspires
All moods divine in mortal passion's trance —
All that its earthly music doth enhance
As with the rapture of seraphic lyres!
I gaze upon her till the atmosphere
Sweetens intensely, and to my charmed sight
All fair associated forms appear
Swimming in joy, as swim yon orbs in light —

1.

Fair Annie had a costly bower,
 Well built wi lime and stane,
And Willie came to visit her,
 Wi the light o the meen.

2.

When he came to Annie's bower-door,
 He tirled at the pin:
“Ye sleep ye, wake ye, Fair Annie,
 Ye'll open, lat me come in.”

3.

“O never a fit,” says Fair Annie,
 “Till I your errand ken;”
“My father's vowd a vow, Annie,
 I'll tell you when I'm in.

4.

“My father's vowed a rash vow,
 I darena marry thee;

Fair, and soft, and gay, and young,
All charm! she played, she danced, she sung!
There was no way to 'scape the dart,
No care could guard the lover's heart.
" Ah! why," cried I, and dropped a tear
(Adoring, yet despairing e'er
To have her to myself alone),
" Was so much sweetness made for one?"

But growing bolder, in her ear
I in soft numbers told my care:
She heard, and raised me from her feet,
And seemed to glow with equal heat.
Like heaven's, too mighty to express,
My joys could but be known by guess.

The faint-flushed buds awake within the cup
Of myriad folded roses yet to be;
Ere Life can drink its utmost sweetness up,
Love flutters, wakens, O how sweet to see!