Parisina. But it is not to list to the waterfall That Parisina leaves her hall; And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light 'Tis not for the sake of its full-blown flower; There glides a step through the foliage thick, And her cheek grows pale, and her heart beats quick; There whispers a voice through the rustling leaves, And her blush returns and her bosom heaves: A moment more, and they shall meet; 'Tis past-her lover's at her feet. BYRON. Masque. Spring all the graces of the age, Add all the softnesses of courts, The looks, the laughters, and the sports; BEN JONSON. Parisina. At non egreditur foribus Parisina superbis Pes novus e spissa foliorum adlabitur umbra, H. T. Pompa. En age fer Veneres qvotqvot nova secla crearint, A A Take, oh take those lips away. Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; Hide, oh hide those hills of snow, SUCKLING. Inscription on a Boat. They say that I am small and frail, It may be so; yet every sail Makes shipwreck in the swelling breeze. Nor strength nor size can then hold fast, Let others trust in oar and mast, But may the gods take care of me! C. MERIVALE (from the Greek). Leonidas of Farentum, Aut Fr. Yol. 18.83, Deprecatio. Aufer hinc procul ista tam dulce perfida labra: Conde pectore qvi super, conde sis, glaciali R. S. Inscriptio Phaseli. At tenuis, narrant, at sum male firma carina; Sim tenuis, sim firma parum: tamen omnis in alto Tum nec magna tenet moles, nec qvernea transtra, K. The Silent Land. Into the Silent Land! Ah, who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shatter'd wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither, oh thither, Into the Silent Land? Into the Silent Land! To you, ye boundless regions Of all perfection, tender morning visions O Land O Land! For all the broken-hearted The mildest herald by our fate allotted Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand, To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of all the great departed, Into the Silent Land! LONGFELLOW (from the German of SALIS). The Lover's Wish. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, Peace in thy breast! Would I were Sleep and Peace, so sweet to rest. SHAKSPEARE. |