FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118  
119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   >>   >|  
ur Descends to the moon. Through the vales to my love! Where the turf is so soft to the feet, And the thyme makes it sweet, And the stately foxglove Hangs silent its exquisite bells; And where water wells The greenness grows greener, And bulrushes stand Round a lily to screen her. Nevertheless, if this land, Like a garden to smell and to sight, Were turned to a desert of sand, Stripped bare of delight, All its best gone to worst, For my feet no repose, No water to comfort my thirst, And heaven like a furnace above,-- The desert would be As gushing of waters to me, The wilderness be as a rose, If it led me to thee, O my love! THE LOWEST ROOM. Like flowers sequestered from the sun And wind of summer, day by day I dwindled paler, whilst my hair Showed the first tinge of grey. "Oh, what is life, that we should live? Or what is death, that we must die? A bursting bubble is our life: I also, what am I?" "What is your grief? now tell me, sweet, That I may grieve," my sister said; And stayed a white embroidering hand And raised a golden head: Her tresses showed a richer mass, Her eyes looked softer than my own, Her figure had a statelier height, Her voice a tenderer tone. "Some must be second and not first; All cannot be the first of all: Is not this, too, but vanity? I stumble like to fall. "So yesterday I read the acts Of Hector and each clangorous king With wrathful great AEacides:-- Old Homer leaves a sting." The comely face looked up again, The deft hand lingered on the thread "Sweet, tell me what is Homer's sting, Old Homer's sting?" she said. "He stirs my sluggish pulse like wine, He melts me like the wind of spice, Strong as strong Ajax' red right hand, And grand like Juno's eyes. "I cannot melt the sons of men, I cannot fire and tempest-toss:-- Besides, those days were golden days, Whilst these are days of dross." She laughed a feminine low laugh, Yet did not stay her dexterous hand: "Now tell me of those days," she said, "When time ran golden sand." "Then men were men of might and right, Sheer might, at least,
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118  
119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

golden

 

desert

 

looked

 

Whilst

 

feminine

 

yesterday

 

vanity

 

stumble

 

richer

 

tresses


showed
 

softer

 

height

 
tenderer
 
statelier
 
figure
 

Hector

 
tempest
 

thread

 

lingered


sluggish

 

strong

 

Strong

 

wrathful

 

clangorous

 

AEacides

 

Besides

 

dexterous

 

comely

 

leaves


laughed
 
turned
 
Stripped
 

garden

 

screen

 

Nevertheless

 

delight

 

comfort

 
thirst
 
heaven

furnace

 

repose

 
Descends
 

Through

 
stately
 

foxglove

 
greenness
 

greener

 

bulrushes

 
silent