« 前へ次へ »
Die into life : so young Apollo anguish'd ;
What more felicity can fall to creature
Fate of the Butterfly.-SPENSER.
TO LEIGH HUNT, ESQ. GLORY and loveliness have pass'd away;
For if we wander out in early morn,
No wreathed incense do we see upborne
gay, In woven baskets bringing ears of corn,
Roses, and pinks, and violets, to adorn
And I shall ever bless my destiny,
Pan is no longer sought, I feel a free,
With these poor offerings, a man like thee.
Places of nestling green for poets made.-Story of Rimini.
I stood tiptoe upon a little hill,