Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand Some random bud will meet; Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find The daisy at thy feet. 'Tis like the birthday of the world, When earth was born in bloom; The light is made of many dyes, There's crimson buds, and white and blue The very rainbow showers Have turned to blossoms where they fell, And sown the earth with flowers. There's fairy tulips in the east, The garden of the sun; The very streams reflect the hues, And blossom as they run: Still wet with pearly showers; FLOWERS. I WILL not have the mad Clytie, The violet is a nun But I will woo the dainty rose, The queen of every one. And clasps her rings on every hand; The lily is all in white, like a saint, And so is no mate for me And the daisy's cheek is tipped with a blush, She is of such low degree; Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves, And the broom's betrothed to the bee; ΤΟ STILL glides the gentle streamlet on, Serene or ruffled by the storm, The self-same trees their semblance cast. The hue each fleeting globule wears, So, love, however time may flow, ΤΟ I LOVE thee - I love thee! My dreaming in the day; The blessing when I pray : I love thee - I love thee! A thousand maids among.. I love thee I love thee! Thy bright and hazel glance, The mellow lute upon those lips, Whose tender tones entrance: But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs: That still these words enhance, I love thee -I love thee! Whatever be thy chance. ΤΟ LET us make a leap, my dear, And love for all that long ago; And keep a birthday when we meet. SERENADE. А¤, sweet, thou little knowest how Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep. "Tis sweet enough to make me weep, That tender thought of love and thee, That while the world is hushed so deep, Thy soul's perhaps awake to me! Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep! With golden visions for thy dower, While I this midnight vigil keep, In patient love outwatch the world BALLAD. Ir was not in the winter We plucked them as we passed! That churlish season never frowned O, no - the world was newly crowned With flowers when first we met. Twas twilight, and I bade you go, It was the time of roses, We plucked them as we passed! SONNETS. TO THE OCEAN. SHALL I rebuke thee, Ocean, my old love, That once in rage, with the wild winds at strife, Thou darest menace my unit of a life, Sending my clay below, my soul above, |