Oh, Mignon's mouth is like a rose,
A red, red rose, that half uncurls
Sweet petals o'er a crimson bee:
Or like a shell, that, opening, shows
Within its rosy curve white pearls,
White rows of pearls,
Is Mignon's mouth that smiles at me.
Oh, Mignon's eyes are like blue gems,
Two azure gems, that gleam and glow,
Soft sapphires set in ivory:
Or like twin violets, whose stems
Bloom blue beneath the covering snow,
The lidded snow,
Are Mignon's eyes that laugh at me.
O mouth of Mignon, Mignon's eyes!
O eyes of violet, mouth of fire!—
Within which lies all ecstasy
Of tears and kisses and of sighs:—
O mouth, O eyes, and O desire,
O love's desire,
Have mercy on the soul of me!
QUI DOCET, DISCIT.
I.
When all the world was white with flowers,
And Summer, in her sun-built towers,
Stood smiling 'mid her handmaid Hours,
Who robed her limbs for bridal;
Somewhere between the golden sands
And purple hills of Folly's lands,
Love, with a laugh, let go our hands,
And left our sides to idle.
II.
Now all the world is red with doom,
And Autumn, in her frost-carved room,
Bends darkly o'er the gipsy loom
Of memories she weaves there;
Who knocks at night upon the door,
All travel-worn and pale and poor?—
Open! and let him in once more,
The Love that stands and grieves there.