'Be thou a sign of my bliss!' shout I, and then 'tis ordain'd.Yet to thee only I lend a voice, as a Muse from the people
-----Artist, fashion! talk not long!Be a breath thine only song!-----THE DROPS OF NECTAR.
Each chooses his place in the hall;With whirling and waltzing, and light joyous dance,
Now once moreUp the toilsome ascentHasten, panting for breath!Up, then, nor idle be,--Striving and hoping, up, up!
MANY a day and night my bark stood ready laden;Waiting fav'ring winds, I sat with true friends round me,Pledging me to patience and to courage,In the haven.
When at length return'd the spring-time,To the nightingales thus spake I:"Darling nightingales, oh, beat yeEarly, early at my window,--Wake me from the heavy slumberThat chains down the youth so strongly!"Yet the love-o'erflowing songstersTheir sweet melodies protractedThrough the night before my window,Kept awake my loving spirit,Rousing new and tender yearningsIn my newly-waken'd bosom.And the night thus fleeted o'er me,And Aurora found me sleeping,--Ay, the sun could scarce arouse me.
"If the husband, the father, thus treats you with scorn,If the holiest bonds by him rashly are torn,
From Him proceeds, the lightnings glow,The thunders seize each wicked form,
'Tis of a sad and dingy blue--Such, Joy-Dissector, is thy case indeed
Dies in the trees.
WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth,Unknown, despised, of humble birth,And on Him many a youth attended(His words they seldom comprehended),It ever seem'd to Him most meetTo hold His court in open street,As under heaven's broad canopyOne speaks with greater liberty.The teachings of His blessed wordFrom out His holy mouth were heard;Each market to a fane turn'd HeWith parable and simile.
O'er some trifling gift delays,?
CHORUS OF WATCHERS.