 | Poems |  |
47
TO THE SAME.
Thy words imply that Love, which bides
In human breasts, perforce must know
A rise and fall, an ebb and flow,
As constant as the ocean-tides:
In human breasts, perforce must know
A rise and fall, an ebb and flow,
As constant as the ocean-tides:
Be it so! with those whose petty cares
In narrow hearts have sown disease;
Dearest! thou art unlike to these,
Nor should thy love resemble theirs;
In narrow hearts have sown disease;
Dearest! thou art unlike to these,
Nor should thy love resemble theirs;
Be thy rare love like that sweet sea
Which, peerless, owns enchanted waves,
And in still beauty tideless laves
The happy shores of Italy.
Which, peerless, owns enchanted waves,
And in still beauty tideless laves
The happy shores of Italy.
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