LIBERTY. THE fiery mountains answer each other; From a single cloud the lightning flashes, But keener thy gaze than the lightning's glare, And swifter thy step than the earthquake's tramp; Thou deafenest the rage of the ocean; thy stare Makes blind the volcanos; the sun's bright lamp To thine is a fen-fire damp. From billow and mountain and exhalation ΤΟ MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed; To sit and curb the soul's mute rage Of fettered grief that dares not groan, Hiding from many a careless eye The scorned load of agony. Whilst thou alone, then not regarded, The [ ] thou alone should be, To spend years thus, and be rewarded, As thou, sweet love, requited me When none were near-Oh! I did wake From torture for that moment's sake. Upon my heart thy accents sweet Of peace and pity, fell like dew On flowers half dead; thy lips did meet Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw Thy soft persuasion on my brain, Charming away its dream of pain. We are not happy, sweet; our state Reserve or censure come not near Gentle and good and mild thou art, THE ISLE. THERE was a little lawny islet Like mosaic, paven: And its roof was flowers and leaves Which the summer's breath enweaves, Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze Pierce the pines and tallest trees, Each a gem engraven. Girt by many an azure wave With which the clouds and mountains pave A lake's blue chasm. |