Of all the spots for making love, Give me a shady dairy, With crimson tiles, and blushing smiles From its presiding fairy; The jolly sunbeams peeping in Thro' vine leaves all a-flutter, Like greetings sent from Phoebus to The Goddess of Fresh...
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He stood beside her in the dawn-- And she his Dawn and she his Spring. From her bright palm she fed her fawn, Her swift eyes chased the swallow's wing; Her restless lips, smile-haunted, cast Shrill silver calls to hound and dove; Her young locks...
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Strange fits of passion have I known: And I will dare to tell, But in the lover's ear alone, What once to me befell.
When she I loved look'd every day Fresh as a rose in June, I to her cottage bent my way, Beneath an evening moon.
Upon the...
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Surprised by joy — impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport--Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind-- But how could I forget thee? Through what power,...
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You call it, Love lies bleeding--so you may, Though the red Flower, not prostrate, only droops, As we have seen it here from day to day, From month to month, life passing not away: A flower how rich in sadness! Even thus stoops, (Sentient by Grecian sculpture's...
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I laid me down upon a bank, Where Love lay sleeping; I heard among the rushes dank Weeping, weeping. Then I went to the heath and the wild, To the thistles and thorns of the waste; And they told me how they were beguiled, Driven out, and compelled to the...
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A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said "I've a pretty rose tree," And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her...
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So sweet the hour, so calm the time, I feel it more than half a crime, When Nature sleeps and stars are mute, To mar the silence ev'n with lute. At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes An image of Elysium lies: Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven, Form in the deep...
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I saw thee once - once only - years ago: I must not say how many - but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,...
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Thou wast all that to me, love, For which my soul did pine- A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise...
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