Once I said, Seeing lips whose crimson hue Mocked the roses wet with dew,— Warm, sweet lips, whose breath was balm,— Pure, proud lips, serenely calm,— Tender lips, whose smiling grace Lit with splendor all the face,— “Sweet, for kiss of thine some day Men will barter souls away!”
IV.
Idly said! God hath taken care of all Joy or pain that might befall! Lover’s lip shall never thrill At thy kisses, soft and still; Lover’s heart shall never break In sore anguish for thy sake; Lover’s soul for thee shall know Nor love’s rapture, nor its woe;— All is said!
THE SPARROW TO THE SKYLARK
O skylark, soaring, soaring, Ere day is well begun, Thy full, glad song outpouring To greet the rising sun,— So high, so high in heaven Thy swift wing cleaves the blue, We sparrows in the hedges Can scarcely follow you!
O strong, unwearied singer! By summer winds caressed, Among the white clouds floating With sunshine on thy breast, We hear thy clear notes dropping In showers of golden rain, A glad, triumphant music That hath no thought of pain!
We twitter in the hedges; We chirp our little songs, Whose low, monotonous murmur To homeliest life belongs; We perch in lowly places, We hop from bough to bough, While in the wide sky-spaces, On strong wing soarest thou!
Yet we—we share the rapture And glory of thy flight— Thou’rt still a bird, O skylark,— Thou spirit glad and bright! And ah! no sparrow knoweth But its low note may be Part of earth’s joy and gladness That finds full voice in thee!
THE BELL OF ST. PAUL’S
“The great bell of St. Paul’s, which
only sounds when the King is dead.”