Ah! Love thou art a happy reckless boy,

[Pg 11]

But now the feathry chariot glides along

[Pg 12]

But Lo! one groweth old, and very old,—

[Pg 13]

And thus the queen, unto that gruesome hag:

[Pg 14]

[Pg 15]

From out a darkened corner of the ruin rises,

And Cupid flees in sudden wild despair.

[Pg 16]

Oh! for a generous draft of that sweet moly,

[Pg 17]

[Pg 18]

[Pg 19]

Another music like the morning star!

[Pg 20]

Her heart is free with old remembered things.

To weave ah! thus to weave a soul asleep!

 Prev. P 3/36 next