Lose the day loitering,'twill be the same story
To-morrow, and the next more dilatory,
7 lines
No living atom comes at last to naught!
Active in each is still the eternal Thought:
43 lines, 2 comments
I PICKED a rustic nosegay lately,
And bore it homewards, musing greatly;
13 lines, 1 comment
A PLAN the Muses entertain'd
Methodically to impart
8 lines
THE mason's trade Observe them well,
Resembles life, And watch them revealing
15 lines
WHEREFORE ever ramble on?
For the Good is lying near,
4 lines, 1 comment
WHEN the vine again is blowing,
Then the wine moves in the cask;
12 lines
FARTHER and farther away, alas! at each moment the vessel
Hastens, as onward it glides, cleaving the foam-cover'd flood!
236 lines
HERE where the roses blossom, where vines round the laurels are twining,
Where the turtle-dove calls, where the blithe cricket is heard,
6 lines
WHY pacest thou, my neighbour fair,
The garden all alone?
32 lines
Go! obedient to my call,
Turn to profit thy young days,
10 lines
IN the small and great world too,
What most charms a woman's heart?
41 lines
WEEP, maiden, weep here o'er the tomb of Love;
He died of nothing--by mere chance was slain.
4 lines
TELL me, eyes, what 'tis ye're seeking;
For ye're saying something sweet,
16 lines
MODEST men must needs endure,
And the bold must humbly bow;
4 lines
AT midnight hour I went, not willingly,
A little, little boy, yon churchyard past,
15 lines
OVER the meadows, and down the stream,
And through the garden-walks straying,
16 lines
FLOURISH greener, as ye clamber,
Oh ye leaves, to seek my chamber,
16 lines
OH, enter old minstrel, thou time-honour'd one!
We children are here in the hall all alone,
100 lines
THE father's name ye ne'er shall be told
Of my darling unborn life;
16 lines
OH, my Theresa dear!
Thine eyes, I greatly fear,
18 lines
OH world, with what baseness and guilt thou art rife!
Thou nurtures, trainest, and illest the while.
4 lines
WHAT makes time short to me?
Activity!
10 lines, 1 comment
FOR woman due allowance make!
Form'd of a crooked rib was she,--
8 lines
THE mirror tells me, I am fair!
Thou sayest, to grow old my fate will be.
4 lines
IT is a fault oneself to praise,
And yet 'tis done by each whose deeds are kind;
8 lines
THAT thou can't never end, doth make thee great,
And that thou ne'er beginnest, is thy fate.
20 lines
HAFIS, straight to equal thee,
One would strive in vain;
16 lines
LOVE's torments sought a place of rest,
Where all might drear and lonely be;
4 lines
LOVE is indeed a glorious prize!
What fairer guerdon meets our eyes?--
12 lines
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