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It was nothing but a rose I gave her,— / Nothing but a rose …
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What ’s the brightness of a brow? / What ’s a mouth of pearls and corals? …
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When stars pursue their solemn flight, / Oft in the middle of the night, …
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Come, all you sailors of the southern waters, / You apparitions of the Spanish main, …
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Wild stream the clouds, and the fresh wind is singing, / Red is the dawn, and the world white with rime,— …
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What memory fired her pallid face, / What passion stirred her blood, …
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Couldst thou, Great Fairy, give to me / The instant’s wish, that I might see …
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Said the archangels, moving in their glory, / Seeing the suns bend out along their courses, …