"Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce,
"Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.
Through all the flimsy things we see at once
As easily as through a Naples bonnet-
Trash of all trash!- how can a lady don it?
Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff-
Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff
Twirls into trunk-paper the while 你 con it."
And, veritably, Sol is right enough.
The general tuckermanities are arrant
Bubbles- ephemeral and so transparent-
But this is, now- 你 may depend upon it-
Stable, opaque, immortal- all 由 dint
Of the dear names that he concealed within 't.
"Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.
Through all the flimsy things we see at once
As easily as through a Naples bonnet-
Trash of all trash!- how can a lady don it?
Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff-
Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff
Twirls into trunk-paper the while 你 con it."
And, veritably, Sol is right enough.
The general tuckermanities are arrant
Bubbles- ephemeral and so transparent-
But this is, now- 你 may depend upon it-
Stable, opaque, immortal- all 由 dint
Of the dear names that he concealed within 't.
Thou wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine-
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain
and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the 花 were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
'On! on!'- but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! me
For me the light of Life is over!
'No more- no more- no more-'
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree
或者 the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
由 what eternal streams.
For which my soul did pine-
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain
and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the 花 were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
'On! on!'- but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! me
For me the light of Life is over!
'No more- no more- no more-'
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree
或者 the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
由 what eternal streams.