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You bring blithe airs where'er you tread; …

Blithe airs that blow from down and sea;

You wake in me a Pan not dead; …

Not wholly dead! … Autonoe!



How sweet with you on some green sod

To wreathe the rustic garden…god;

How sweet beneath the chestnut's shade

With you to weave a basket…braid;

To watch across the stricken chords

Your rosy…twinkling fingers flee;

To woo you in soft woodland words;

With woodland pipe; Autonoe!



In vain; … in vain!  The years divide:

Where Thamis rolls a murky tide;

I sit and fill my painful reams;

And see you only in my dreams; …

A vision; like Alcestis; brought

From under…lands of Memory; …

A dream of Form in days of Thought; …

A dream; … a dream; Autonoe!



Austin Dobson '1840…1921'





〃CHAMBER SCENE〃

An Exquisite Picture In The Studio Of A Young Artist At Rome



She rose from her untroubled sleep;

And put away her soft brown hair;

And; in a tone as low and deep

As love's first whisper; breathed a prayer …

Her snow…white hands together pressed;

Her blue eyes sheltered in the lid;

The folded linen on her breast;

Just swelling with the charms it hid;

And from her long and flowing dress

Escaped a bare and slender foot;

Whose shape upon the earth did press

Like a new snow…flake; white and 〃mute〃;

And there; from slumber pure and warm;

Like a young spirit fresh from heaven;

She bowed her slight and graceful form;

And humbly prayed to be forgiven。



Oh God! if souls unsoiled as these

Need daily mercy from Thy throne;

If she upon her bended knees;

Our loveliest and our purest one; …

She; with a face so clear and bright;

We deem her some stray child of light; …

If she; with those soft eyes in tears;

Day after day in her first years;

Must kneel and pray for grace from Thee;

What far; far deeper need have we!

How hardly; if she win not heaven;

Will our wild errors be forgiven!



Nathaniel Parker Willis '1806…1867'





〃AH; BE NOT FALSE〃



Ah; be not false; sweet Splendor!

Be true; be good;

Be wise as thou art tender;

Be all that Beauty should。



Not lightly be thy citadel subdued;

Not ignobly; not untimely;

Take praise in solemn mood;

Take love sublimely。



Richard Watson Gilder '1844…1909'





A LIFE…LESSON



There! little girl; don't cry!

They have broken your doll; I know;

And your tea…set blue;

And your play…house; too;

Are things of the long ago;

But childish troubles will soon pass by。 …

There! little girl; don't cry!



There! little girl; don't cry!

They have broken your slate; I know;

And the glad; wild ways

Of your school…girl days

Are things of the long ago;

But life and love will soon come by。 …

There! little girl; don't cry!



There! little girl; don't cry!

They have broken your heart; I know;

And the rainbow gleams

Of your youthful dreams

Are things of the long ago;

But Heaven holds all for which you sigh。 …

There! little girl; don't cry!



James Whitcomb Riley '1849…1916'













THE MAN













THE BREAKING

The Lord God Speaks To A Youth



Bend now thy body to the common weight:

(But oh; that vine…clad head; those limbs of morn!

Those proud young shoulders; I myself made straight!

How shall ye wear the yoke that must be worn?)



Look thou; my son; what wisdom comes to thee:

(But oh; that singing mouth; those radiant eyes!

Those dancing feet … that I myself made free!

How shall I sadden them to make them wise?)



Nay; then; thou shalt!  Resist not … have a care!

(Yea; I must work my plans who sovereign sit;

Yet do not tremble so!  I cannot bear …

Though I am God … to see thee so submit!)



Margaret Steele Anderson '1869…1921'





THE FLIGHT OF YOUTH



There are gains for all our losses;

There are balms for all our pain:

But when youth; the dream; departs;

It takes something from our hearts;

And it never comes again。



We are stronger; and are better;

Under manhood's sterner reign:

Still we feel that something sweet

Followed youth; with flying feet;

And will never come again。



Something beautiful is vanished;

And we sigh for it in vain:

We behold it everywhere;

On the earth; and in the air;

But it never comes again。



Richard Henry Stoddard '1825…1903'





〃DAYS OF MY YOUTH〃



Days of my youth;

Ye have glided away;

Hairs of my youth;

Ye are frosted and gray;

Eyes of my youth;

Your keen sight is no more;

Cheeks of my youth;

Ye are furrowed all o'er;

Strength of my youth;

All your vigor is gone;

Thoughts of my youth;

Your gay visions are flown。



Days of my youth;

I wish not your recall;

Hairs of my youth;

I'm content ye should fall;

Eyes of my youth;

You much evil have seen;

Cheeks of my youth;

Bathed in tears have you been;

Thoughts of my youth;

You have led me astray;

Strength of my youth;

Why lament your decay?



Days of my age;

Ye will shortly be past;

Pains of my age;

Yet awhile ye can last;

Joys of my age;

In true wisdom delight;

Eyes of my age;

Be religion your light;

Thoughts of my age;

Dread ye not the cold sod;

Hopes of my age;

Be ye fixed on your God。



St。 George Tucker '1752…1827'





AVE ATQUE VALE



Farewell my Youth! for now we needs must part;

For here the paths divide;

Here hand from hand must sever; heart from heart; …

Divergence deep and wide。



You'll wear no withered roses for my sake;

Though I go mourning for you all day long;

Finding no magic more in bower or brake;

No melody in song。



Gray Eld must travel in my company

To seal this severance more fast and sure。

A joyless fellowship; i' faith; 'twill be;

Yet must we fare together; I and he;

Till I shall tread the footpath way no more。



But when a blackbird pipes among the boughs;

On some dim; iridescent day in spring;

Then I may dream you are remembering

Our ancient vows。



Or when some joy foregone; some fate forsworn;

Looks through the dark eyes of the violet;

I may re…cross the set; forbidden bourne;

I may forget

Our long; long parting for a little while;

Dream of the golden splendors of your smile;

Dream you remember yet。



Rosamund Marriott Watson '1863…1911'





TO YOUTH



Where art thou gone; light…ankled Youth?

With wing at either shoulder;

And smile that never left thy mouth

Until the Hours grew colder:



Then somewhat seemed to whisper near

That thou and I must part;

I doubted it; I felt no fear;

No weight upon the heart。



If aught befell it; Love was by

And rolled it off again;

So; if there ever was a sigh;

'Twas not a sigh of pain。



I may not call thee back; but thou

Returnest when the hand

Of gentle Sleep waves o'er my brow

His poppy…crested wand;



Then smiling eyes bend over mine;

Then lips once pressed invite;

But sleep hath given a silent sign;

And both; alas! take flight。



Walter Savage Landor '1775…1864'





STANZAS WRITTEN ON THE ROAD BETWEEN FLORENCE AND PISA



Oh; talk not to me of a name great in story;

The days of our youth are the days of our glory;

And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two…and…twenty

Are worth all your laurels; though ever so plenty。



What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

'Tis but as a dead…flower with May…dew besprinkled:

Then away with all such from the head that is hoary!

What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory?



Oh Fame! … if I e'er took delight in thy praises;

'Twas less for the sake of thy high…sounding phrases;

Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover;

She thought that I was not unworthy to love her。



There chiefly I sought thee; there only I found thee;

Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;

When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story;

I knew it was love; and I felt it was glory。



George Gordon Byron '1788…1824'





STANZAS FOR MUSIC



There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away;

When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay;

'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone; which fades so fast;

But the tender bloom of heart is gone; ere youth itself be past。



Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness

Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess:

The magnet of their course is gone; or only points in vain

The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again。



Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down;

It cannot feel for others' woes; it dare not dream its own;

That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears;

And though the eye may sparkle still; 'tis where the ice appears。



Though wit may flash from fluent lips; and mirth distract the breast;

Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest;

'Tis but as ivy…leaves ar

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