FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   374   375   376   377   378   379   380   381   382   383   384   385   386   387   388   389   390   391   392   393   394   395   396   397   398  
399   400   401   402   403   404   405   406   407   408   409   410   411   412   413   414   415   416   417   418   419   420   421   422   423   >>   >|  
times she seems to answer straight: Then, starting from my waking dream, I say,-- "Alas! poor wretch, thou art of mind bereft! Forget'st thou the first hour of the sixth day Of April, the three hundred, forty eight, And thousandth year,--when she her earthly mansion left?" MOREHEAD. My mind recalls her; nay, her home is there, Nor can Lethean draught drive thence her form, I see that star's pure ray her spirit warm, Whose grace and spring-time beauty she doth wear. As thus my vision paints her charms so rare, That none to such perfection may conform, I cry, "'Tis she! death doth to life transform!" And then to hear that voice, I wake my prayer. She now replies, and now doth mute appear, Like one whose tottering mind regains its power; I speak my heart: "Thou must this cheat resign; The thirteen hundred, eight and fortieth year, The sixth of April's suns, his first bright hour, Thou know'st that soul celestial fled its shrine!" WOLLASTON. SONNET LXIV. _Questo nostro caduco e fragil bene._ NATURE DISPLAYED IN HER EVERY CHARM, BUT SOON WITHDREW HER FROM SIGHT. This gift of beauty which a good men name, Frail, fleeting, fancied, false, a wind, a shade, Ne'er yet with all its spells one fair array'd, Save in this age when for my cost it came. Not such is Nature's duty, nor her aim, One to enrich if others poor are made, But now on one is all her wealth display'd, --Ladies, your pardon let my boldness claim. Like loveliness ne'er lived, or old or new, Nor ever shall, I ween, but hid so strange, Scarce did our erring world its marvel view, So soon it fled; thus too my soul must change The little light vouchsafed me from the skies Only for pleasure of her sainted eyes. MACGREGOR. SONNET LXV. _O tempo, o ciel volubil che fuggendo._ HE NO LONGER CONTEMPLATES THE MORTAL, BUT THE IMMORTAL BEAUTIES OF LAURA. O Time! O heavens! whose flying changes frame Errors and snares for mortals poor and blind; O days more swift than arrows or the wind, Experienced now, I know your treacherous aim. You I excuse, myself alone I blame, For Nature for your flight who wings design'd To me gave eyes which still I have inclined To mine own ill, whence follow grief and shame. An hour will come, haply e'en now is p
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   374   375   376   377   378   379   380   381   382   383   384   385   386   387   388   389   390   391   392   393   394   395   396   397   398  
399   400   401   402   403   404   405   406   407   408   409   410   411   412   413   414   415   416   417   418   419   420   421   422   423   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

beauty

 
SONNET
 

Nature

 

hundred

 

Scarce

 

erring

 

marvel

 

change

 

wealth

 

enrich


display

 

Ladies

 

boldness

 

pardon

 

loveliness

 

strange

 

flight

 

design

 

excuse

 

arrows


Experienced

 

treacherous

 

follow

 

inclined

 

volubil

 

fuggendo

 

vouchsafed

 

pleasure

 
MACGREGOR
 

sainted


LONGER

 

CONTEMPLATES

 
Errors
 

snares

 

mortals

 

flying

 

heavens

 

IMMORTAL

 

MORTAL

 

BEAUTIES


spirit

 

spring

 
draught
 

perfection

 

conform

 
vision
 

paints

 

charms

 

Lethean

 
wretch