FROM THEODORE DE BANVILLE.
I.
NIGHT.
We bless the coming of the Night,
Whose cool sweet kiss has set us free,
Life's clamour and anxiety
Her mantle covers out of sight.
All eating cares have taken flight,
The scented air is wine to me;
We bless the coming of the Night,
Whose cool sweet kiss has set us free.
Rest now, O reader, worn and white,
Driven by some divinity,
Aloft, like sparkling hoar frost see,
A starry ocean throb in light,
We bless the coming of the Night.
II.
THE MOON.
The moon, with all her tricksy ways,
Is like a careless young coquette,
Who smiles, and then her eyes are wet,
And flies or follows or delays.
By night, along the sand-hills' maze,
She leads and mocks you till you fret.
The moon with all her tricksy ways,
Is like a careless young coquette.
As oft she veils herself in haze,
A cloak before her splendour set;
She is a silly charming pet,
We needs must give her love and praise,
The moon with all her tricksy ways.
Arthur Reed Ropes.
RONDEL.
Oh, modern singers! ye who vote
Our times for song unfit,
Your Pegasus is smooth of coat,
And patient of the bit;