18th November 1852
“VICTORY!”
78 lines
Not by one measure mayst thou mete our love;
For how should I be loved as I love thee?—
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When first that horse, within whose populous womb
The birth was death, o'ershadowed Troy with fate,
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“O HAVE you seen the Stratton flood
That's great with rain to-day?
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I
Chins that might serve the new Jerusalem;
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On this sweet bank your head thrice sweet and dear
I lay, and spread your hair on either side,
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I. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER
Give honour unto Luke Evangelist;
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(In the Louvre)
SCARCELY, I think; yet it indeed may be
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Christ sprang from David Shepherd, and even so
From David King, being born of high and low.
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THE day is dark and the night
To him that would search their heart;
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THE head and hands of murdered Cicero,
Above his seat high in the Forum hung,
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Not I myself know all my love for thee:
How should I reach so far, who cannot weigh
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As two whose love, first foolish, widening scope,
Knows suddenly, to music high and soft,
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Sweet stream-fed glen, why say “farewell” to thee
Who far'st so well and find'st for ever smooth
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I
Beholding youth and hope in mockery caught
30 lines
(In the Academy of Bruges)
MYSTERY: God, man's life, born into man
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AND didst thou know indeed, when at the font
Together with thy name thou gav'st me his,
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BEHOLD Fiammetta, shown in Vision here.
Gloom-girt 'mid Spring-flushed apple-growth she stands;
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“'TWAS thus, thus is, and thus shall be:
The Beautiful—the Good—
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HERE lies Duns Scotus
Who died of lotus.
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In France (to baffle thieves and murderers)
A journey takes two days of passport work
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Strong extreme speed, that the brain hurries with,
Further than trees, and hedges, and green grass
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Sometimes thou seem'st not as thyself alone,
But as the meaning of all things that are;
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What is the sorriest thing that enters Hell?
None of the sins,—but this and that fair deed
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Get thee behind me. Even as, heavy-curled,
Stooping against the wind, a charioteer
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As thy friend's face, with shadow of soul o'erspread,
Somewhile unto thy sight perchance hath been
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HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta's queen,
(O Troy Town!)
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CON manto d'oro, collana, ed anelli,
Le piace aver con quelli
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A PIPPO Pipistrello
Farfalla la fanciulla:
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Beauty like hers is genius. Not the call
Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime,—
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