Tanagra! think not I forget Thy beautifully-storeyd streets; Be sure my memory bathes yet In clear Thermodon, and yet greets The blythe and liberal shepherd boy, Whose sunny bosom swells with joy...
Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound Into hot Summer's lusty arms expires; And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night, Soft airs, that want the lute to play with them,...
I Leave thee, beauteous Italy! no more From the high terraces, at even-tide, To look supine into thy depths of sky, Thy golden moon between the cliff and me, Or thy dark spires of fretted cypresses...
Here, where precipitate Spring, with one light bound Into hot Summer's lusty arms, expires, And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night, Soft airs that want the lute to play with 'em,...
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Lo! where the four mimosas blend their shade In calm repose at last is Landor laid; For ere he slept he saw them planted here By her his soul had ever held most dear,...
Friends, whom she look'd at blandly from her couch And her white wrist above it, gem-bedew'd, Were arguing with Pentheusa: she had heard Report of Creon's death, whom years before...
Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound Into hot Summer's lusty arms expires; And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night, Soft airs, that want the lute to play with them,...
Leaf after leaf drops off, flower after flower, Some in the chill, some in the warmer hour: Alike they flourish and alike they fall, And Earth who nourisht them receives them all....
Once, and once only, have I seen thy face, Elia! once only has thy tripping tongue Run o'er my breast, yet never has been left Impression on it stronger or more sweet....
I strove with none; for none was worth my strife, Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life, It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Over his millions Death has lawful power, But over thee, brave D'Ossoli! none, none. After a longer struggle, in a fight Worthy of Italy, to youth restor'd, Thou, far from home, art sunk beneath the surge...
Ternissa! you are fled! I say not to the dead, But to the happy ones who rest below: For, surely, surely, where Your voice and graces are, Nothing of death can any feel or know....
Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream; I wish no happier one than to be laid Beneath a cool syringa's scented shade, Or wavy willow, by the running stream, Brimful of moral, where the dragon-fly,...
The fault is not mine if I love you too much, I loved you too little too long, Such ever your graces, your tenderness such, And the music the heart gave the tongue. ...
There falls with every wedding chime A feather from the wing of Time. You pick it up, and say 'How fair To look upon its colors are!' Another drops day after day Unheeded; not one word you say....