O, Do not wanton with those eyes,
Lest I be sick with seeing;
Nor cast them down, but let them rise,
Lest shame destroy their being.
O, be not angry with those fires,
For then their threats will kill me;
Nor look too kind on my desires,
For then my hopes will spill me.
O, do not steep them in thy tears,
For...
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly...
TAKE, 1 O, take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, like break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn;
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain.
Hide, O, hide those hills of snow
Which thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are yet of those that...
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!
Those joyous hours are passed away;
And many a heart that then was gay
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so ’t will be when I am...
Hymn and Prayer for the Use of Believers
LORD! when those glorious lights I see
With which thou hast adorned the skies,
Observing how they movèd be,
And how their splendor fills mine eyes,
Methinks it is too large a grace,
But that thy love ordained it so,—
That creatures in so high a place
Should servants be to man below...
If those I loved were lost
The Crier's voice would tell me —
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring —
Did those I loved repose
The Daisy would impel me.
Philip — when bewildered
Bore his riddle in!
My best Acquaintances are those
With Whom I spoke no Word —
The Stars that stated come to Town
Esteemed Me never rude
Although to their Celestial Call
I failed to make reply —
My constant — reverential Face
Sufficient Courtesy.
The overtakelessness of those
Who have accomplished Death
Majestic is to me beyond
The majesties of Earth.
The soul her "Not at Home"
Inscribes upon the flesh —
And takes her fair aerial gait
Beyond the hope of touch.
Those fair — fictitious People —
The Women — plucked away
From our familiar Lifetime —
The Men of Ivory —
Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas —
Who stay upon the Wall
In Everlasting Keepsake —
Can Anybody tell?
We trust — in places perfecter —
Inheriting...
The shearers sat in the firelight, hearty and hale and strong,
After the hard day's shearing, passing the joke along:
The "ringer" that shore a hundred, as they never were shorn before,
And the novice who, toiling bravely, had tommy-hawked half a score,
The tarboy, the cook and the skushy, the sweeper that swept the board,...
