Rhaicos went daily; but the nymph as oft, Invisible. To play at love, she knew, Stopping its breathings when it breathes most soft,
Is sweeter than to play on any pipe. She play'd on his : she fed upon his sighs; They pleas'd her when they gently wav'd her hair,
Cooling the pulses of her purple veins, And when her absence brought them out, they pleas'd.
Even among the fondest of them all, What mortal or immortal maid is more Content with giving happiness than pain? One day he was returning from the wood Despondently. She pitied him, and said
TO HER FATHER, ON HER STATUE BEING CALLED LIKE HER
FATHER! the little girl we see Is not, I fancy, so like me; You never hold her on your knee.
When she came home, the other day, You kiss'd her; but I cannot say She kiss'd you first and ran away.
I COME to visit thee agen, My little flowerless cyclamen ; To touch the hand, almost to press, That cheer'd thee in thy loneliness. What could thy careful guardian find Of thee in form, of me in mind, What is there in us rich or rare, To make us claim a moment's care? Unworthy to be so carest,
We are but withering leaves at best.
STAND close around, ye Stygian set, With Dirce in one boat convey'd, Or Charon, seeing, may forget That he is old, and she a shade.
WE are what suns and winds and waters make us ;
The mountains are our sponsors, and the rills
Fashion and win their nursling with their
But where the land is dim from tyranny, There tiny pleasures occupy the place Of glories and of duties; as the feet Of fabled faeries when the sun goes down Trip o'er the grass where wrestlers strove by day.
Then Justice, call'd the Eternal One above, Is more inconstant than the buoyant form That burst into existence from the froth Of ever-varying ocean: what is best
Then becomes worst; what loveliest, most
The heart is hardest in the softest climes, The passions flourish, the affections die. O thou vast tablet of these awful truths, That fillest all the space between the seas, Spreading from Venice's deserted courts To the Tarentine and Hydruntine mole, What lifts thee up? what shakes thee? 't is the breath
Of God. Awake, ye nations! spring to life! Let the last work of his right hand appear Fresh with his image, Man.
""T WAS evening, though not sunset, and the tide,
Level with these green meadows, seem'd yet higher :
'Twas pleasant, and I loosen'd from my neck
The pipe you gave me, and began to play. O that I ne'er had learn'd the tuneful art!
It always brings us enemies or love. Well, I was playing, when above the waves Some swimmer's head methought I saw ascend;
I, sitting still, survey'd it with my pipe Awkwardly held before my lips half-clos'd. Gebir! it was a Nymph! a Nymph divine! I cannot wait describing how she came, How I was sitting, how she first assum'd The sailor; of what happen'd there remains Enough to say, and too much to forget. The sweet deceiver stepp'd upon this bank Before I was aware; for with surprise Moments fly rapid as with love itself. Stooping to tune afresh the hoarsen'd reed, I heard a rustling, and where that arose My glance first lighted on her nimble feet. Her feet resembled those long shells ex- plor'd
By him who to befriend his steed's dim sight Would blow the pungent powder in the eye. Her eyes too! O immortal gods! her eyes Resembled — what could they resemble? what
Ever resemble those? Even her attire Was not of wonted woof nor vulgar art:
Shake one and it awakens, then apply Its polish'd lips to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there. And I have others given me by the nymphs, Of sweeter sound than any pipe you have: But we, by Neptune! for no pipe contend; This time a sheep I win, a pipe the next.' Now came she forward eager to engage, But first her dress, her bosom then survey'd And heav'd it, doubting if she could deceive. Her bosom seem'd, inclos'd in haze like heaven,
To baffle touch, and rose forth undefin'd; Above her knee she drew the robe succinct, Above her breast, and just below her arms. This will preserve my breath when tightly
If struggle and equal strength should so constrain.'
Thus, pulling hard to fasten it, she spake, And, rushing at me, clos'd: I thrill'd throughout
And seem'd to lessen and shrink up with cold.
Again with violent impulse gush'd my blood, And hearing nought external, thus absorb'd, I heard it, rushing through each turbid vein, Shake my unsteady swimming sight in air. Yet with unyielding though uncertain arms
I clung around her neck; the vest beneath Rustled against our slippery limbs entwin'd: Often mine springing with eluded force Started aside and trembled till replaced : And when I most succeeded, as I thought, My bosom and my throat felt so compress'd That life was almost quivering on my lips. Yet nothing was there painful: these are signs
Of secret arts and not of human might; What arts I cannot tell; I only know My eyes grew dizzy and my strength decay'd;
I was indeed o'ercome with what regret, And more, with what confusion, when I
The fold, and yielding up the sheep, she cried,
This pays a shepherd to a conquering maid.'
She smil'd, and more of pleasure than disdain
Was in her dimpled chin and liberal lip, And eyes that languish'd, lengthening, just like love.
She went away; I on the wicker gate Leant, and could follow with my eyes alone
The sheep she carried easy as a cloak ; But when I heard its bleating, as I did, And saw, she hastening on, its hinder feet Struggle, and from her snowy shoulder slip, One shoulder its poor efforts had unveil❜d, Then all my passions mingling fell in tears; Restless then ran I to the highest ground To watch her; she was gone; gone down the tide ;
And the long moonbeam on the hard wet sand
Lay like a jasper column half uprear'd."
WHERE art thou gone, light-ankled Youth? With wing at either shoulder, And smile that never left thy mouth Until the Hours grew colder:
Then somewhat seem'd to whisper near That thou and I must part; I doubted it; I felt no fear, No weight upon the heart.
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