A simple ring with a single stone, To the vulgar eye no stone of price: Whisper the right word, that alone, Forth starts a sprite, like fire from ice, And lo, you are lord (says an Eastern scroll)...
Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf and blind; But although I take your meaning, 'tis with such a heavy mind!
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court, I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down Without help, make shift to even speak, you see, Fortified by the sip of . . . why, 'tis wine,...
Only the prism's obstruction shows aright The secret of a sunbeam, breaks its light Into the jewelled bow from blankest white; So may a glory from defect arise: Only by Deafness may the vexed Love wreak...
Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees, (If our loves remain) In an English lane, By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies. Hark, those two in the hazel coppice...
Plague take all your pedants, say I! He who wrote what I hold in my hand, Centuries back was so good as to die, Leaving this rubbish to cumber the land; This, that was a book in its time,...
Here's the garden she walked across, Arm in my arm, such a short while since: Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss Hinders the hinges and makes them wince!...
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright? Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell, So things disguise themselves, I cannot see My own hand held thus broad before my face...
I. Oh, the beautiful girl, too white, Who lived at Pornic, down by the sea, Just where the sea and the Loire unite! And a boasted name in Brittany She bore, which I will not write.
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you, Abate Panciatichi two good Tuscan names: Acciaiuoli ah, your ancestor it was, Built the huge battlemented convent-block Over the little forky flashing Greve...
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; 'Good speed!' cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;...
He sings. I send my heart up to thee, all my heart In this my singing. For the stars help me, and the sea bears part; The very night is clinging Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space...
Hist, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged, Master Hugues! Answer the question I've put you so oft: What do you mean by your mountainous fugues? See, we're alone in the loft, ...