WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR
Years, not so many, are to come, Years not so varied, when from you
One more will fall: when, carried home, I see it not, nor hear Adieu.
��584 Finis
I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
��JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE 585 To Night
MYSTERIOUS Night 1 when our first parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue ? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came, And lo! Creation widened in man's view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O sun' or who could find, Whilst fly and leaf and insect stood revealed, That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind'
Why do we then shun death with anxious strife?
If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life?
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