The flowers on her grave scarce breathe,
So sweet a flower lies hid beneath;
As if they feared their growth might stir
The sleepy earth that covers her.

810

Her Grace is all she has—
And that, so least displays—
One Art to recognize, must be,
Another Art, to praise.

This man's desire; that other's hopeless end;
A third's capricious tyrant: and my friend.

The gladness of our Southern spring; the grace
Of summer; and the dreaminess of fall
Are parts of her sweet nature. Such a face
Was Ruth's, methinks, divinely spiritual.

There is no Paradise like that which lies
Deep in the heavens of her azure eyes:
There is no Eden here on Earth that glows
Like that which smiles rich in her mouth's red rose.

Friends are to friends as lesser gods, while they
Honour and service to each other pay:
But when a dark cloud comes, grudge not to lend
Thy head, thy heart, thy fortune to thy friend

Med hellig Hjertebanken
Vi staae paa Bjergets Top,
Et Verdens Drama for Tanken
Rulles i Dalen op!

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.

Heat waves shimmering
one or two inches
above the dead grass.

Heartsease in my garden bed,
With sweetwilliam white and red,
Honeysuckle on my wall: -
Heartsease blossoms in my heart
When sweet William comes to call,
But it withers when we part,
And the honey-trumpets fall.