Sonnet
Oh truant heart! come back to thine own home —
Let not the roses lure thee, nor the blooms
Of the young spring entice thee more to roam;
Be thou not dazzled by those sparkling rooms
Where Beauty plays the queen, and flashes gems
From her dark eyes, and from her red lips pearls;
Oh truant heart! frail are the roses' stems,
They break in showers — and sudden tempest hurls
The spring blooms to the earth, and Beauty pales —
'Tis Life's sweet star, dimmed by the moon of Time;
Then come! come to the fountain, heart, that never fails,
Fountain of hallowed genius, thoughts sublime,
That flows through dream-land, pure, and bright, and free —
There is thy home, my heart: the fount is Poesy.
Let not the roses lure thee, nor the blooms
Of the young spring entice thee more to roam;
Be thou not dazzled by those sparkling rooms
Where Beauty plays the queen, and flashes gems
From her dark eyes, and from her red lips pearls;
Oh truant heart! frail are the roses' stems,
They break in showers — and sudden tempest hurls
The spring blooms to the earth, and Beauty pales —
'Tis Life's sweet star, dimmed by the moon of Time;
Then come! come to the fountain, heart, that never fails,
Fountain of hallowed genius, thoughts sublime,
That flows through dream-land, pure, and bright, and free —
There is thy home, my heart: the fount is Poesy.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.