The chrysolites and rubies Bacchu… To crown the feast where swells th… Where maidens blush at what the mi… They who have coveted may covet no… Bring me, in cool alcove, the grap…

THERE is a mountain and a wood b… Where the lone shepherd and late b… Morning and noon and eventide repa… Between us now the mountain and th… Seem standing darker than last yea…

Rejoice, ye nations! one is dead By whom ten thousand hearts have b… Widows and orphans, raise your voi… One voice, ye prostrate peoples, r… To God; to God alone be praise!

In spring and summer winds may blo… And rains fall after, hard and fas… The tender leaves, if beaten low, Shine but the more for shower and… But when their fated hour arrives,

Laertes: Gods help thee! and rest… My good old guest, I am more old… Yet have outlived by many years my… Odysseus and the chaste Penelope. Homer: Hither I come to visit the…

Why is, and whence, the Po in fla… In consternation do its borderers… Imploring hands to mortal men arou… And Gods above? Are Gods implaca… Or men bereft of sight at such a b…

ALAS, how soon the hours are ove… Counted us out to play the lover! And how much narrower is the stage Allotted us to play the sage! But when we play the fool, how wid…

WE are what suns and winds and wa… The mountains are our sponsors, an… Fashion and win their nursling wit… But where the land is dim from tyr… There tiny pleasures occupy the pl…

Damaetas is a boy as rue As ever broke maid’s solitude. He watcht the little Ida going Where the wood—raspberries were gr… And, under a pretence of fear

Well I remember how you smiled To see me write your name upon The soft sea—sand . . . “O! what… You think you’re writing upon ston… I have since written what no tide

Twenty years hence my eyes may gro… If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall… Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may h…

Here, ever since you went abroad, If there be change, no change I s… I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walkt by me. Yes; I forgot; a change there is;

Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath some cool syringa’s scente… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of Moral, where the Drago…

FOURTH BOOK. The king’s lone road, his visit, h… Were not unknown to Dalica, nor l… The wondrous tale from royal ears… When the young queen had heard who…