While sunset stains the windows of the west
In parting glory drest,
Ere yet the evening star leads in the hours
That hush all voices in their leafy bowers
Save the lone bird's that shuns the light;
Ere in the burning chamber of the night
With sacramental rite
Of dewdrops on the cerements of the flowers
Its burden dropped, its sins confessed
Our long drawn day is laid at length at rest
We, flung together as the seeds are thrown
The sower's hand has strown,
But clinging as the iron sands that feel

Beautiful streamlet by my dwelling side,
I love thy shining sands, thy banks of grass;
I love to see thy silver water pass,
Hurrying beneath the willow boughs to hide.
Thy nursing springs are in the forest shade,
Moss-bank and rock, brown trunk and ancient tree,
Woodbirds and wild flowers are thy company,
Until thou glitterest in the open glade.
Thou wert my playmate in my early days;
I built cascades and tiny bridges then;
Now thoughtfully on thy green banks I gaze,
And thy bright current, gushing through its glen,

Though I (try to) hide it,
My love
Ends by showing in my face,
To such an extent that people ask
" Are you thinking about something"?

Do not pluck me,
Plucking me is too unfair.
I'm a willow near the pond by the Qu River,
this man broke me, that man plucked me:
Each one's love lasted only a moment.

Drop by drop and drip by drip, rain on the winding banks,
Pair by pair and one by one, mandarin ducks chatter.
Lush, lush, the fragrance of wild flowers,
Soft, soft, the yellow of the golden willow-threads
Lovely, lovely, the girls on the river,
Two by two, dancers beside the stream
Bright, bright, the gleam of silk and gauze robes,
Dainty, dainty, the adornments of cloud hair and cosmetics.

My love —
If you care to know (its quantity),
Count the number
Of the waves which may be approaching
The sea-shore at Tago.

Can even the God of Thunder
Whose foot-fall resounds
In the plains of the sky
Put asunder
Those whom love joins?

With amor first my riddle plaine to make,
I meane interpreting some paines to take,
Let the beginning put be to the end,
Looke on it then, you'le find it no mans friend;
Invert the letters, reade it backewards, then
O famous City it will be agen,
Make it two sillables, and then you'le see

Most rightly shewed Sir, what now you be,
Or , it is gold and am doth you denote,
Rightly will time you for the true gold coate:
Time well will note delaies of other men,
On what your love is set, time shewes againe,

If she you loved has proved unkind,
Love one that will be fonder;
Or, better, leave the town behind —
Strap wallet on, and wander!

You soon will reach a lake of blue
Enclosed by weeping willows;
There let your trivial tears bedew
The grass, and spare your pillows.

Then climb the rugged mountain sheer;
Though toil and stress confound you,
When you are on the top you'll hear
The eagles calling round you.

And free as they, and strong of wing,
Your life and strength renewing,
You'll think your loss a little thing,

Wild caresses, tender woes,
Dallying with the burning rose,
Fragrance sweet and lovely lies,
Passion rude in noble guise,
Love — its arts, its blisses, sighs —
Masters are the French in those.

For the art of hating, none
Like the Germans. Hate begun,
In the soul the drops distil
And the poison mounts until
There's enough at last to fill
Even Heidelberg's vast tun.