Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the leaf a browner hue, As twilight melts beneath the moon away. - LORD BYRON. 21. ILLUSIONS. A GOOD that never satisfies the mind, A sweet with floods of gall, that run combin'd, A glory at opinion's frown that low'rs, A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind, - WILLIAM DRUMMOND. 22. SWEET AND BITTER. SWEET is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the broom flower, but yet sour enough; For easy things that may be got at will IT flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands, Caves, pillars, pyramids, the shepherd bands That roamed through the young world, the glory extreme Of high Sesostris, and that southern beam, The laughing queen that caught the world's great hands. Then comes a mightier silence, stern and strong, As of a world left empty of its throng, And the void weighs on us; and then we wake, - LEIGH HUNT. 24. IN SAN LORENZO. Is thine hour come to wake, O slumbering Night? Though thou be stone and sleep, yet shalt thou hear When the word falls from heaven-Let there be Light. Thou knowest we would not do thee the despite To wake thee while the old sorrow and shame were near. We spake not loud for thy sake, and for fear Lest thou should'st lose the rest that was thy right, The blessing given thee that was thine alone, The happiness to sleep and to be stone. Yea, we kept silence of thee for thy sake, Albeit we knew thee alive, and left with thee The great good gift to feel not nor to see; But will not yet thine Angel bid thee wake? - A. C. SWINBURNE. : 25. HER EYES. LONG-WHILE I sought to what I might compare Resemble th'image of their goodly light. Not to the Sun; for they do shine by night; Nor to the Moon; for they are changéd never; Nor to the Stars; for they have purer sight; Nor to the Fire; for they consume not never; Nor to the Lightning; for they still persever ; Nor to the Diamond; for they are more tender; Nor unto Crystal; for naught may them sever; Nor unto Glasse; such baseness might offend her. Then to the Maker's self they likest be, Whose light doth lighten all that here we see. -EDMUND SPENSER. 26. CUPID AND CAMPASPE. CUPID and my Campaspe play'd · At cards for kisses; Cupid paid: Growing on's cheek (but none knows how); O Love! has she done this to thee? JOHN LYLY. 27. THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET. GREEN little vaulter on the sunny grass, One to the fields, the other to the hearth, Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong At your clear hearts, and both seem given to earth To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song, In doors and out, summer and winter, mirth. - LEIGH HUNT. |