IDEAS OF GOOD AND EVIL.
127
BARREN BLOSSOM.
I feared the fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair and true ;
And my sun it shined and shined,
And my wind it never blew.
But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree;
For all blossoms grew and grew
Fruitless, false, though fair to see.
NIGHT AND DAY.
Silent, silent Night,
Quench the holy light
Of thy torches bright ;
For, possessed of Day,
Thousand spirits stray
That sweet joys betray.
Why should joys be sweet
Usèd with deceit,
Nor with sorrows meet?
But an honest joy
Doth itself destroy
For a harlot coy.
