Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but...
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I had no Cause to be awake —
My Best — was gone to sleep —
And Morn a new politeness took —
And failed to wake them up —
But called the others — clear —
And passed their Curtains by —
Sweet Morning — when I oversleep —
Knock — Recollect — to Me —
I looked at Sunrise —... -
Remorse is memory awake,
Her companies astir,---
A presence of departed acts
At window and at door.
It's past set down before the soul,
And lighted with a match,
Perusal to facilitate
Of its condensed despatch.
Remorse is cureless,---the disease
Not even...