Ihaveloved flowers that fade,Within whose magic tentsRich hues have marriage madeWith sweet unmemoried scents:A honeymoon delight,—A joy of love at sight,That ages in an hour:—My song be like a flower!I have loved airs, that dieBefore their charm is writUpon the liquid skyTrembling to welcome it.Notes, that with pulse of fireProclaim the spirit’s desire,Then die, and are nowhere:—My song be like an air!Die, song, die like a breath,And wither as a bloom:Fear not a flowery death,Dread not an airy tomb!Fly with delight, fly hence!’Twas thine love’s tender senseTo feast, now on thy bierBeauty shall shed a tear.
Ihaveloved flowers that fade,Within whose magic tentsRich hues have marriage madeWith sweet unmemoried scents:A honeymoon delight,—A joy of love at sight,That ages in an hour:—My song be like a flower!I have loved airs, that dieBefore their charm is writUpon the liquid skyTrembling to welcome it.Notes, that with pulse of fireProclaim the spirit’s desire,Then die, and are nowhere:—My song be like an air!Die, song, die like a breath,And wither as a bloom:Fear not a flowery death,Dread not an airy tomb!Fly with delight, fly hence!’Twas thine love’s tender senseTo feast, now on thy bierBeauty shall shed a tear.
Ihaveloved flowers that fade,Within whose magic tentsRich hues have marriage madeWith sweet unmemoried scents:A honeymoon delight,—A joy of love at sight,That ages in an hour:—My song be like a flower!
Ihaveloved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight,—
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour:—
My song be like a flower!
I have loved airs, that dieBefore their charm is writUpon the liquid skyTrembling to welcome it.Notes, that with pulse of fireProclaim the spirit’s desire,Then die, and are nowhere:—My song be like an air!
I have loved airs, that die
Before their charm is writ
Upon the liquid sky
Trembling to welcome it.
Notes, that with pulse of fire
Proclaim the spirit’s desire,
Then die, and are nowhere:—
My song be like an air!
Die, song, die like a breath,And wither as a bloom:Fear not a flowery death,Dread not an airy tomb!Fly with delight, fly hence!’Twas thine love’s tender senseTo feast, now on thy bierBeauty shall shed a tear.
Die, song, die like a breath,
And wither as a bloom:
Fear not a flowery death,
Dread not an airy tomb!
Fly with delight, fly hence!
’Twas thine love’s tender sense
To feast, now on thy bier
Beauty shall shed a tear.