Toiling, rejoicing,―sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought! ENDYMION. THE rising moon has hid the stars; Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow On such a tranquil night as this, When, sleeping in the grove, Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, Love gives itself, but is not bought; Nor voice, nor sound betrays Its deep, impassioned gaze. It comes, the beautiful, the free, In silence and alone To seek the elected one. It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep, And kisses the closed eyes Of him, who slumbering lies. O, weary hearts! O, slumbering eyes! Are fraught with fear and pain, No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. Responds, as if, with unseen wings An angel touched its quivering strings; And whispers, in its song, "Where hast thou stayed so long!" F IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY. NO HAY PÁJAROS EN LOS NIDOS DE ANTAÑO. Spanish Proverb. THE sun is bright, the air is clear, The blue-bird prophesying Spring. So blue yon winding river flows, All things are new ;-the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves;There are no birds in last year's nest! All things rejoice in youth and love, The melting tenderness of night. |