«As in the day of first creation, / The azure skies are calm again, / As though the world knew not privation, / As though the heart knew naught of pain; / For love and fame my craving passes; / 'Mid silence of the fields at morn / I breathe, as breathe these very grasses... / O'er days ...»
«Quoth nature unto me in tones of stately scorning: / "Begone, and break not in upon my harmony! / I weary of thy tears; mar not with anguished mourning / The calm wherewith my azure nights encompass me. "All have I given thee, — life, youth and freedom given, / But thou in senseless feud...»
«The eventide fondled the earth in farewell, / And in its suspense not a leaf dared to sway; / The creak of a cart far away rose and fell, / Stars marshalled aquiver in silent array. Clear-blue is the sky, — deep and strange is its guise; / But look not upon it with glances that crave, / ...»
«Not bloodshed, nor ills we engender, / Could yet fling a mantle of gloom / On the heavenly palace of splendour, / Or on earth with the lure of its bloom. As of old, we are tenderly ravished / By valleys and blossoms and rills; / Unchanging, the starlight is lavished, / And the tune that...»