Yet do I love her still,
And always love her dearly,
Though angry winds blow chill,
Dark as a sunset hill,
Halt as a frozen rill,
My constant heart can still Love her so dearly,
O still, so dearly.
Sure as the daffodil
My nymph leaned down to tie her shoe,
Then gathered up a wandering tress;
The little Loves about her flew
And triumphed in her gracefulness.
It was a simple thing to do,
Just leaning down to tie her shoe,
Then gathering up a wandering tress. Of wives [...]
"Tomorrow," said my Nymph, 'Til go
And botanize with you"; and so,
Tomorrow, in the curious way That morrows have, became today;
And we have roamed about for hours,
Poking our noses into flowers.
Skirting th [...]
Earth, mother of all, kind earth,
Hear my prayer,
You called her out of your being,
Sweet, sweet, and so fair;
Why have you set behind her the shadow Of my despair?
She goes about the world as the sun
Goes round the sky,
Giving the hills their clear- [...]
Benvenuto Cellini might have put it down to the malign influence of the stars. He had his share of misfortunes and rather fancied himself as an expert in diagnosing the origin of these obscure thrusts and hindrances. It is just as well that he put th [...]