Abided with thee, lest the light,
A flaming sword before thine eyes,
Had shut thee out from Paradise.
The friend of fortune that once clung to me.
In flattering light, thy constancy is shown;
In darkness, thou wilt leave me all alone.
The Night-Blooming Cereus.
Shunning his ardors and his pageantries,
She breathes her beauty on the heart of Night;
His wonderful, white, wedded joy she is !
FROM dreary wastes of unfulfilled desire,
We harvest dreams that never come to pass;
Then pour our wine amid the dying fire,
And on the cold hearth break the empty glass.
TIME has no flight, — ’t is we who speed along.
The days and nights are but the same as when
The earth awoke with the first rush of song,
And felt the swiftly passing feet of men.
The Bust of Kronos. (In the Vatican Museum.)
Titanic power and more than mortal grace ;
Across wan lips and eyes bereft of light
The awful shadow of unending night.