Said: "The taper's here!"
Heathrose fair and tender!"Said the rosebud, "I'll prick thee,So that thou'lt remember me,
From a desert, rocky spot;For the fray they couch their lances,
Thus I wrote, and with my blood.
I feel a leaden spell.
CHORUS OF WATCHERS.
HOPE provides wings to thought, and love to hope.Rise up to Cynthia, love, when night is clearest,And say, that as on high her figure changeth,So, upon earth, my joy decays and grows.And whisper in her ear with modest softness,How doubt oft hung its head, and truth oft wept.And oh ye thoughts, distrustfully inclined,If ye are therefore by the loved one chided,Answer: 'tis true ye change, but alter not,As she remains the same, yet changeth ever.Doubt may invade the heart, but poisons not,For love is sweeter, by suspicion flavour'd.If it with anger overcasts the eye,And heaven's bright purity perversely blackens,Then zephyr-sighs straight scare the clouds away,And, changed to tears, dissolve them into rain.Thought, hope, and love remain there as before,Till Cynthia gleams upon me as of old.
"Mother," he said in confusion:--"You greatly surprise me!" and quicklyWiped he away his tears, the noble and sensitive youngster."What! You are weeping, my son?" the startled mother continued"That is indeed unlike you! I never before saw you crying!Say, what has sadden'd your heart? What drives you to sit here all lonelyUnder the shade of the pear-tree? What is it that makes you unhappy?"
For of all thou takest heed.
Save a heart whose love ne'er dies,
Syllables teeming with thought, by a fond pair are exchang'd.Then becomes whispering, talk,--and stamm'ring, a language enchanting;
Are they hither wending?
As his father's friend, kind courtesy.
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