Songs of the Lovelorn Nightingale

Þrjár stílæfingar, sem ég orti allar á sérlega andlegum vinnustað mínum, undir samheitinu Songs of the Lovelorn Nightingale. Áhrifavaldinn þarf vart að nefna á nafn. Vart heldur við því að búast að ég muni nokkurn tíma ná hans hæðum. Enda verða kvæðin ekki fleiri af þessum toga:

I. A thought on an April's evening

The Moon doth gaze upon the reverse'd heaven,
Tenderly maketh ripples on heart's lake,
It's fabric seeming so enearthly woven,
Casting dreams which giveth just to take.
Yonder sits a nightingale who wishes,
In gazing at the serenade of stars,
That Venus will bring hither dreams of kisses,
Refraining from the sickly nights of Mars.
Havind utter'd nought but Love's confession,
A lover's broken heart makes his profession.

II. A friendships wov

Would'st thou bring thine tender arms around me,
Not for thine fairest lips to stray off path,
But for the purpose only to behold thee
As friends doth hold in worlds that beauty hath.
Doth'st thou not in mine expression witness
This bard's sincerity in wishing this;
Will'st thou not in time forgive his boldness
That once requested thine eternal kiss?
Put thine faith not in these wage expressions
But in mine eyes, which doth make true confessions.

III. Elysium dreams at daybreak

The day doth brake with violent bursts of flame,
But altogether promises remorse;
Which doth it give, serene yet never tame,
In fairest of appraisals of it's force:
The roses' bloom must yet inspire many,
The gentle nursing wind the rose doth give;
The frenzied song of Love is one with any
Whom, with nature, finds his will to live.
For Love resides in hearts of those who fashion
Natures rhyme with poetry and passion.