From the French by Louise Stuart Costello
WHILE yet these tears have power to flow
For hours for ever past away;
While yet these swelling sighs allow
My faltering voice to breathe a lay;
While yet my hand can touch the chords,
My tender lute, to wake thy tone;
While yet my mind no thought affords,
But one remembered...
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Come to these scenes of peace,
Where, to rivers murmuring,
The sweet birds all the summer sing,
Where cares and toil and sadness cease!
Stranger, does thy heart deplore
Friends whom thou wilt see no more?
Does thy wounded spirit prove
Pangs of hopeless, severed love?
Thee the stream that gushes clear,
Thee the birds that... -
How many times these low feet staggered —
Only the soldered mouth can tell —
Try — can you stir the awful rivet —
Try — can you lift the hasps of steel!
Stroke the cool forehead — hot so often —
Lift — if you care — the listless hair —
Handle the adamantine fingers
Never a thimble —...In rags mysterious as these
The shining Courtiers go —
Veiling the purple, and the plumes —
Veiling the ermine so.
Smiling, as they request an alms —
At some imposing door!
Smiling when we walk barefoot
Upon their golden floor!Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White —
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank
Of Victors — designate —
All these — did conquer —
But the ones who overcame most times —
Wear nothing commoner than Snow —
No Ornament, but Palms —
Surrender — is a sort unknown...These are the days that Reindeer love
And pranks the Northern star —
This is the Sun's objective,
And Finland of the Year.
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These are the Idiots chiefest artst
To blend & not define the Parts
The Swallow sings in Courts of Kings
That Fools have their high finishings
5And this the Princes golden rule
The...These are the Signs to Nature's Inns —
Her invitation broad
To Whosoever famishing
To taste her mystic Bread —
These are the rites of Nature's House —
The Hospitality
That opens with an equal width
To Beggar and to Bee
For Sureties of her staunch Estate
Her...These held their Wick above the West —
Till when the Red declined —
Or how the Amber aided it —
Defied to be defined —
Then waned without disparagement
In a dissembling Hue
That would not let the Eye decide
Did it abide or no —These tested Our Horizon —
Then disappeared
As Birds before achieving
A Latitude.
Our Retrospection of Them
A fixed Delight,
But our Anticipation
A Dice — a Doubt —