Lyrics (Classic Reprint) - Tapa blanda

Excerpt from Lyrics

Yet, behold I We tireless seekers after fairy gold, Grown weary for a little, pray to thee, Summer, thou gossamer divinity, That thou, one gracious gift for which we long, Wilt grant to us, poor suppliants of song Grant us one day of roses - all the scent Of roses - fragrant as Love's sacrament Something equal to our dream of love, Who have not loved, save only in dreams.

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Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Lyrics

Prelude

Pause for a little, Summer, and forget
How few the hours 'twixt sunrise and sunset!
How fugitive thy kingdom, and how soon
Thy crescent swells to the gold harvest moon;
And how with faded flowers are strewn thy ways:
Grant us one perfect day of all thy days!
Golden, as only thou canst well devise,
Coloured and sumptuous as peacocks' eyes!
A day of unstained lustre, without fleck,
Like a pearl hung round Aphrodite's neck -
That we may, peradventure, crush therefrom
The essence of thy beauty: sun and storm
And shadows and wild scents - all palpitating
For the hour only. Lo! thou art a thing
Pagan and unremembering. For a while
Charge us with the full magic of thy smile,
And in some haunted place, where the full stream
Murmurs and laughs, like music in a dream,
Through ferns, and noiseless over the green earth slips,
Sit mocking us - thy pipes pressed to thy lips,
Those perverse pipes which lure men's feet to stray
From the ancient safety of the straight highway,
To worship on some perilous hillside
That loveliness which perished when Pan died.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.