Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, Against His messengers to shut the door? A DAY OF SUNSHINE. O GIFT of God! O perfect day: Whereon shall no man work, but play Whereon it is enough for me, Through every fibre of my brain, Through every nerve, through every vein, I feel the electric thrill, the touch sun Sails like a golden galleon, Towards yonder cloud-lands in the west, Towards yonder Islands of the Blest, snow-flakes of the cherry- Blow, winds! and bend within my reach The fiery blossoms of the peach! O Life and Love! O happy throng Of thoughts, whose only speech is song! O heart of man! canst thou not be TO LUCASTA, ON GOING BEYOND | Can speak like spirits unconfined THE SEAS. IF to be absent were to be Away from thee; Or that when I am gone Then, my Lucasta, might I crave Pity from blustering wind, or swallowing wave. Though seas and land betwixt us both, Our faith and troth, All time and space controls: Above the highest sphere we meet Unseen, unknown, and greet as angels greet. So then we do anticipate And are alive in the skies, In heaven, their earthly bodies left behind. TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind, True, a new mistress now I chase, Yet this inconstancy is such As you, too, shall adore, I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more. SAMUEL OH! WATCH YOU WELL BY DAY LIGHT. On! watch you well by daylight, To guard us in our sleep. Oh! watch you well in pleasure- When joy withdraws its rays: For in the hour of sorrow, As in the darkness drear, THE CHILD AND THE AUTUMN Down by the river's bank I strayed She played among the yellow leaves- Fair child, if by this stream you stray, When after years go by, The scene that makes thy childhood's sport, May wake thy age's sigh: SIGHS. YIELD NOT, THOU SAD ONE, TO But the breeze, ere it ruffled the deep, Pervading the odorous bowers, Awaken'd the flowers from their sleep, OH! yield not, thou sad one, to sighs. Nor murmur at Destiny's will. Behold, for each pleasure that flies, Another replacing it still. Time's wing, were it all of onefeather, Far slower would be in its flight: The storm gives a charm to fine weather, And day would seem dark without night. Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs. When we look on some lake that repeats The loveliness bounding its shore, A breeze o'er the soft surface fleets, And the mirror-like beauty is o'er. And wafted their sweets to be ours. Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs. Oh, blame not the change nor the flight Of our joys as they're passing away, 'Tis the swiftness and change give delight [stay. They would pall if permitted to More gaily they glitter in flying, They perish in lustre still bright, Like the hues of the dolphin, in dying, Or the humming-bird's wing in its flight. Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs. |