Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

Sad the bird that sings alone,

Flies to wilds unseen to languish,
Pours unheard the ceaseless moan,
And wastes on desert air its anguish.

Mine, O hapless bird, thy fate,

The plunder'd nest, the lonely sorrow, The lost, loved, harmonious mate,

The wailing night, the chearless morrow.-

O thou dear hoard of treasured love,

Though these fond arms should ne'er possess

thee,

Still, still my heart its faith shall prove,

And its last sighs shall breathe to bless thee.

Translations

FROM THE

French, Italian, Spanish,

AND

Portuguese.

E

THE

NURSING OF LOVE.

LAP'D on Cythera's golden sands

When first True Love was born on Earth, Long was the doubt what fost'ring hands Should tend and rear the glorious birth.

First Hebe claimed the sweet employ,
Her cup, her thornless flowers, she said,
Would feed him best with health and joy,
And cradle best his cherub head.

But anxious Venus justly fear'd

The tricks and changeful mind of Youth; Too mild the seraph Peace appear'd, Too stern, too cold, the matron Truth;

Next Fancy claim'd him for her own,
But Prudence disallow'd her right,

She deem'd her Iris pinions shone
Too dazzling for his infant sight.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »