All Nature hath its voice.—The meadows have their message.
The river leaping down the rocky narrow passage
Hath its own voice and heart.
Each star hath its own voice, each sun its speech excelling;
The fountain its soft voice of mystery upward welling.
Tongued is the lightning's dart.

Each poet hath his word.—Some in triumphant measure
Sing of the reign of sweet old-world Saturnian pleasure:
Some thunder like the sea.
I sing of Love, Love, Love. I give the world for token
The message that strong Love with sweetness never broken
Himself has given to me.

White cloud-wonders waver and wander,
White mists rising and falling yonder
Are like chill fingers laid upon my heart;
Ever the nightingale's plaint grows fonder—
Can it be true that you and I must part?

Red, red roses hang in a cluster,
Red lips glow in the wine-cup's lustre;
Stay me, before I go, with wine and bread!
Round me an army of shadows muster
And weave a veil of darkness for my head.

Will o' the wisp before me flying,
Pale sad faces like faint flames dying—
I walk alone beside a spectral mere;
Ghostly voices about me crying

Wake up, Jacob, day is abreaking, I'm on my way;
O, wake up, Jacob, day is abreaking I'm on my way.
O! way. I want to go to heaven when I die,
Do love de Lord!
I want to go to heaven when I die,
Do love de Lord!
O! Lord

Got some friends on de oder shore,
Do love de Lord!
I want to see 'em more an' more,
Do love de Lord!
Wake up, Jacob, &c.

Fresh as the foam of torrents from the snow,
Dark, soft as footsteps in the woods below,
Complete as sunlight falling from above,
New as young vine-leaves, is our virgin love.

When loue on time and measure makes his ground,
Time that must end though loue can neuer die,
Tis loue betwixt a shadow and a sound,
A loue not in the hart but in the eie,
A loue that ebbes and flowes now vp now downe,
A mornings fauor and an euenings frowne.

Sweete lookes shew loue, yet they are but as beames,
Faire wordes seeme true, yet they are but as wind,
Eies shed their teares yet are but outward streames:
Sighes paint a sadnes in the falsest minde.
Lookes, wordes, teares, sighes, shew loue when loue they leaue,

Govind is my life; the world tastes bitter to me.
I love Rama and Rama alone; let my eyes see no other.
In Miran's palace dwell Hari's saints; Hari dwells far from intrigue with his saints.

You go a long and lovely journey,
For all the stars, like burning dew,
Are luminous and luring footprints
Of souls adventurous as you.

Oh, if you lived on earth elated,
How is it now that you can run
Free of the weight of flesh, and faring
Far past the birthplace of the sun?

A rann I made within my heart
To the rider, to the high king,
A rann I made to my love,
To the king of kings, ancient death.

Brighter to me than light of day
The dark of thy house, though black clay;
Sweeter to me than the music of trumpets
The quiet of thy house and its eternal silence.

I went to Ed Haley's the day it was bright
I met with a woman I loved at first sight.
I asked her some questions about her past life,
She told me she was single, but had been a wife.

In deep conversation I studied her mind,
She had come down to Brushy to wait on the blind;
The labor was hard and the wages was small,
I soon saw she did not like Horse Branch at all.

I dream of this woman, she's stolen my heart;
Sad disappointments has kept us apart.
I'm troubled and worried, I'm tired of this place,
It seems like a year since I looked on her face.

I live and love as others do
But seldom have the face to woo
A rosy cheek a snowy breast
Doth steal away my tranquil rest
A silent pain my heart doth fill
It pants within but does not kill
Love's a tormenting thing to seek
Withering a heart it cannot break

That face is fair so very fair
Brighter her eyes than others are
And to my eyes those locks so curled
More beautiful than all the world
That form for ever haunteth me
Nought like to it I ever see
Those swelling breasts like billows rise
To fascinate my wondering eyes