FOURTH BOOK. The king’s lone road, his visit, h… Were not unknown to Dalica, nor l… The wondrous tale from royal ears… When the young queen had heard who…

‘Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and look’d into my ey… ‘A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must…

YOUR pleasures spring like daisi… Cut down and up again as blithe as… From you, Ianthe, little troubles… Like little ripples in a sunny riv…

MANY love music but for music’s… Many because her touches can awake Thoughts that repose within the br… And rise to follow where she loves… What various feelings come from da…

Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath some cool syringa’s scente… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of Moral, where the Drago…

You smiled, you spoke, and I beli… By every word and smile deceived. Another man would hope no more; Nor hope I what I hoped before: But let not this last wish be vain…

COME, Sleep! but mind ye! if you… The little girl that struck me at… By Jove! I would not give you hal… For all your poppy—heads and all y…

Proud word you never spoke, but yo… Four not exempt from pride some fu… Resting on one white hand a warm w… Over my open volume you will say, 'This man loved me’—then rise and…

Zoe: Changed? very true, O Thero… Theron: It would at least have be… To hold a moment back from me the… You let recoil thus sharply or my… Not long ago, not very long, you o…

The Year’s twelve daughters had i… Of measured pace tho’ varying mien… Some froward, some sedater, some a… For festival, some reckless of att… The snow had left the mountain—top…

Here, where precipitate Spring wi… Into hot Summer’s lusty arms expi… And where go forth at morn, at eve… Soft airs, that want the lute to p… And softer sighs, that know not wh…

I held her hand, the pledge of bli… Her hand that trembled and withdre… She bent her head before my kiss..… My heart was sure that hers was tr… Now I have told her I must part,

BORGIA, thou once wert almost t… And high for adoration; now thou ’… All that remains of thee these pla… Calm hair meandering in pellucid g…

Well I remember how you smiled To see me write your name upon The soft sea—sand . . . “O! what… You think you’re writing upon ston… I have since written what no tide

Now to Aurora borne by dappled st… The sacred gate of orient pearl an… Smitten with Lucifer’s light silv… Expanded slow to strains of harmon… The waves beneath in purpling rows…