Heaped in raven loops and masses
Over temples smooth and fair,
Have you marked it, as she passes,
Gleam and shadow mingled there,
Braided strands of midnight air,
Helen's hair?

Deep with dreams and starry mazes
Of the thought that in them lies,
Have you seen them, as she raises
Them in gladness or surprise,
Two gray gleams of daybreak skies,
Helen's eyes?

Moist with dew and honied wafters
Of a music sweet that slips,
Have you marked them, brimmed with laughter's
Song and sunshine to their tips,

Helas madam cel que ie me tant
soffre que soie voutre humble seruant
voutre vumble seruant ie ray a tousiours
e tant que ie viueray altre naimeray que vous.

Alas, madam, who I love so much,
Allow me to be your humble servant:
Your humble servant I will always remain,
And as long as I live, no other will I love.

The huge old earth shook and quivered,
When it heard my passionate cry.
Why, even the little stars shivered
And almost went out in the sky.

But the earth and the stars knew better,
Whispering below and above,
'If the fool will be faithless, let her.'—
So nothing went out but my love.

HE turned his face apart, and gave a sigh
And a strange whimper—such a pitiful thing
As haunts the heart for days. “Yes, Love can bring
Unto a pass so low that it seems high:
And, when we see a brave and strong man cry
With a poor infant's feeble sorrowing,
It is a nobler passion than to wing
Shafts of small angers and small prides,” thought I.
There is a love so deaf that it can hear
Not even its own voice which bids it seek
A name for its own meanness: it would find
The outlet else. But thus it is a sheer

Hedge, that divides the lovely
Garden, and myself from me,
Never in you so fair a rose I see
As she who is my lady,
Loving, sweet and holy:
Who as I stretch my hand to you
Presses it, so softly, too.

Eternal spring of boundless grace,
It lifts the soul above,
Where God the Son unveils his face,
And shows that Heaven is love.


Love that revolves through endless years--
Love that can never pall;
Love which excludes the gloom of fears,
Love to whom God is all!


Love which can ransom every slave,
And set the pris'ner free;
Gild the dark horrors of the grave,
And still the raging sea.


Let but the partial smile of Heaven
Upon the bosom play,
The mystic sound of sins forgiven,
Can waft the soul away.

HEAR, ye ladies that despise
   What the mighty Love has done;
Fear examples and be wise:
   Fair Callisto was a nun;
Leda, sailing on the stream
   To deceive the hopes of man,
Love accounting but a dream,
   Doted on a silver swan;
   Danae, in a brazen tower,
   Where no love was, loved a shower.

Hear, ye ladies that are coy,
   What the mighty Love can do;
Fear the fierceness of the boy:

Under the shade of a Jasmine tree
A little distance from the tavern, on that turn of the road
Two bodies
Burned out in the fire of love
Love, the word of devotion
Love, their God
Love, their funeral pyre
Two bodies
Moist in the dew, bathed in the moonlight
Like two newly bloomed flowers
Cool fresh breeze from the gardens
Wallowed in grief
Winding itself through the dark tresses
Stayed for a brief moment on the warm faces

We saw them
In the mornings and in the nights
In ecstasy and in agony

My friend
who sleeps on my lap
loves someone else.
He says he is a man
and a man needs a woman
and I disagree.
We argue until he grows
tired of talking
and sleeps on my lap

on this chilly night.
And I sigh,
knowing he loves
someone else
but still sleeps
gently on my lap,
innocent, not knowing
that I am here
slaughtering
one wicked wish
that when he wakes up
I shall be his dream.

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.

He who wears the garb of Love
Gets blessings from above.

Soon as he drinks from this cup
No questions and no answers remain.

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.

He who has the Beloved in his heart,
He is fulfilled with his Love.
No need he has for formality,
He just enjoys his ecstasy.

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.