At times thy image to my mind returns, Aspasia. In the crowded streets it gleams Upon me, for an instant, as I pass, In other faces; or in lonely fields, At noon-tide bright, beneath the silent stars,...
The storm hath passed; I hear the birds rejoice; the hen, Returned into the road again, Her cheerful notes repeats. The sky serene Is, in the west, upon the mountain seen:...
Children of Fate, in the same breath Created were they, Love and Death. Such fair creations ne'er were seen, Or here below, or in the heaven serene. The first, the source of happiness,...
What doest thou in heaven, O moon? Say, silent moon, what doest thou? Thou risest in the evening; thoughtfully Thou wanderest o'er the plain, Then sinkest to thy rest again. And art thou never satisfied...
Such wast thou: now in earth below, Dust and a skeleton thou art. Above thy bones and clay, Here vainly placed by loving hands, Sole guardian of memory and woe, The image of departed beauty stands....
Italian bold, why wilt thou never cease The fathers from their tombs to summon forth? Why bring them, with this dead age to converse, That stifled is by enemies and by sloth?...
The face of glory and her pleasant voice, O fortunate youth, now recognize, And how much nobler than effeminate sloth Are manhood's tested energies. Take heed, O generous champion, take heed,...
Since now thou art about to leave Thy father's quiet house, And all the phantoms and illusions dear, That heaven-born fancies round it weave, And to this lonely region lend their charm,...
Now that the sun the faded charms Of heaven again restores, And gentle zephyr the sick air revives, And the dark shadows of the clouds Are put to flight, And birds their naked breasts confide...