Blind Thamyris, and Blind Mæonides, Milton.
Pursue the triumph and partake the gale! Pope.
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees, Shakespeare.
To point a moral or adorn a tale. Johnson.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene, Gray.
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears, Tennyson.
Like angels’ visits, few and far between, ...
Arrows enamored of his Heart —
Forgot to rankle there
And Venoms he mistook for Balms
disdained to rankle there —
Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu to thy peace,
Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorrows increase;
See the shadows of ev'ning how far they extend,
And a long night is coming, that never may end;
For the sun is now set that enliven'd the scene,
And an age must be past ere it rises again.
Already...
He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
...
Crisis is sweet and yet the Heart
Upon the hither side
Has Dowers of Prospective
To Denizens denied
Inquire of the closing Rose
Which rapture she preferred
And she will point you sighing
To her rescinded Bud.
Empty my Heart, of Thee —
Its single Artery —
Begin, and leave Thee out —
Simply Extinction's Date —
Much Billow hath the Sea —
One Baltic — They —
Subtract Thyself, in play,
And not enough of me
Is left — to put away —
"Myself" meanth Thee —
...
Have you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so ?
And nobody knows, so still it flows,
That any brook is there ;
And yet your little...
Heart! We will forget him!
You and I — tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave —
I will forget the light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I remember him!
Heart, not so heavy as mine
Wending late home —
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune —
A careless snatch — a ballad — A ditty of the street —
Yet to my irritated Ear
An Anodyne so sweet —
It was as if a Bobolink
Sauntering this way
Carolled, and paused, and...
Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Had scarcely deigned to lie —
When, stirring, for Belief's delight,
My Bride had slipped away —
If 'twas a Dream — made solid — just
The Heaven to confirm —
Or if Myself were dreamed of Her —
The power to presume —
With Him remain...
