Answer to a Sonnet Ending Thus— “Dark eyes are dearer far Than those that made the hyacinthine bell.” By T. H. Reynolds. BLUE! ’T is the life of heaven,—the domain Of Cynthia,—the wide palace of the sun,— The tent of Hesperus, and all his train,— The bosom of clouds, gold, gray, and dun. Blue! ’T is the life of waters—ocean And all its vassal streams: pools numberless May rage, and foam, and fret, but never can Subside, if not to dark-blue nativeness. Blue! Gentle cousin of the forest-green, Married to green in all the sweetest flowers— Forget-me-not,—the blue-bell,—and, that queen Of secrecy, the violet: what strange powers Hast thou, as a mere shadow! But how great, When in an Eye thou art alive with fate!
Blue Eyes
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Csitt, csitt! Csöndbe tipegj, kedvesem az éjben!
Alszik az egész ház, de leselkedik rád,
édes Izabellám, a kopasz féltékeny,
hiába is húztad fejére a sipkát -
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Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let wingèd Fancy wander Through the thought still spread beyond her: Open wide the mind’s cage-door, She ’ll dart forth, and cloudward soar. O sweet Fancy! let her loose...
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Thou still unravished bride of quietness! Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady...
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Great spirits now on earth are sojourning: He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn’s summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel’s wing: He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom’s sake: And lo! whose steadfastness would never...
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Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I...