Poor, withered face, that yet was once so fair, Grown ashen-old in the wild fires of lust - Thy star-like beauty, dimm'd with earthly dust, Yet breathing of a purer native air; -...
Now the last wreath of snow That melts, in mist exhales White aspiration, and our deep-voiced gales In chorus chant the measured march of spring, Whom griefs of life and death Are burdening!...
Veiled in visionary haze, Behold, the ethereal autumn days Draw near again! In broad array, With a low, laborious hum These ministers of plenty come, That seem to linger, while they steal away....
Her moods are like the fountain's, changing ever, That spouts aloft a sudden, watery dome, Only to fall again in shattering foam, Just where the wedded jets themselves dissever,...
At morn his bark like a bird Slips lightly oceanward - Sail feathering smooth o'er the bay And beak that drinks the wild spray. In his eyes beams cheerily A light like the sun's on the sea,...
When, looking deeply in thy face, I catch the undergleam of grace That grows beneath the outward glance, Long looking, lost as in a trance Of long desires that fleet and meet...