Song: To Cynthia Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard From cottages whose smoke unstirred Star of love's soft interviews, Too delicious to be riven By absence from the heart, 1279 Thomas Campbell [1777-1844] THE EVENING CLOUD A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun, O'er the still radiance of the lake below. To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, And by the breath of mercy made to roll And tells to man his glorious destinies. John Wilson [1785-1854) SONG: TO CYNTHIA From "Cynthia's Revels QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, Hesperus entreats thy light, Earth, let not thy envious shade Cynthia's shining orb was made Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright. Ben Jonson [1573?-1637] MY STAR ALL that I know Of a certain star Is, it can throw (Like the angled spar) Now a dart of red, Now a dart of blue, Till my friends have said They would fain see, too, My star that dartles the red and the blue! Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled: They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it. What matter to me if their star is a world? Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it. Robert Browning [1812-1889] NIGHT THE sun descending in the West, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. Night The moon, like a flower Sits and smiles on the night. Farewell, green fields and happy grove, Where lambs have nibbled, silent move Unseen, they pour blessing, They look in every thoughtless nest, They visit caves of every beast, That should have been sleeping, When wolves and tigers howl for prey They pitying stand and weep, Seeking to drive their thirst away, And keep them from the sheep. But, if they rush dreadful, And there the lion's ruddy eyes Shall flow with tears of gold: And pitying the tender cries, And walking round the fold, Saying: "Wrath by His meekness, And by His health, sickness, Are driven away From our immortal day. 1281 "And now beside thee, bleating lamb, Or think on Him who bore thy name, My bright mane for ever As I guard o'er the fold." William Blake [1757-1827] TO NIGHT SWIFTLY walk o'er the western wave, Out of the misty eastern cave Where, all the long and lone daylight, Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest, Lingering like an unloved guest, Thy brother Death came, and cried, "Would'st thou me?" Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Night "Shall I nestle near thy side? Death will come when thou art dead, Sleep will come when thou art fled; 1283 Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822] TO NIGHT MYSTERIOUS Night! when our first parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed While fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, Joseph Blanco White [1775-1841] NIGHT MYSTERIOUS night! Spread wide thy silvery plume! |