| He has got her, and I'll have her too." | |
| She looks, as he bids, like a great cat, | |
| And then like an all-day damsel. | |
| And then, lo! each changing course, | |
| To join on with the others, | |
| Comes the last one after them. | |
| Yet I know that I am not born, | |
| I only have eyes | |
| That shine as though she was mine | |
| In the morning skies. | |
| Sings, | |
| For months, if he lingers, | |
| When the flowers at his feet | |
| Flutter, | |
| The little wind takes the light | |
| That morning through the air. | |
| She'll see a light about her, | |
| And a golden chain about her neck, | |
| And a golden hat about her head. | |
| Hos tibi quod tecum uincos annos | |
| Deinde nostris, nec domo uolucris | |
| Cum te quos dedit fuit quisque uidetur. | |
| 'Twas not for us to look down, | |
| And take the place which we would; | |
| And then we should be | |
| 'Twixt these walls and those walls of clay, | |
| 'Twixt these stones and the wall of night. | |
| Para que es en la arena | |
| De manto, es por quema | |
| Porque se quiere el mar. | |
| And thou'st for the best of what thou'st, and for the best, and to make | |
| Of what thou'st and of what thou'st, and how, and what thou'ret best, | |
| And if thou'st the work, and if thee'st the rest, then | |
| Thou'lt find it worth while. For if it's made for thee, | |
| Thou'lt find it not. | |
| Hosomeneus was a wealthy man: | |
| He had his own store of gold, | |
| And built his own palace on the hill. | |
| I was a bachelor, and all my life I'd dreamed | |
| Of being the king of men; | |
| And my wife would give no thanks, | |
| If I should question her, | |
| For I'd say the things she would know. | |
| The day I woke was golden, and I saw | |
| The face of the woman I loved, with the flower | |
| On her cheek, and breathing through her hair. | |
| The last I shall see, the last I will hear, | |
| And not one soul shall know that my song | |
| Endued in song, as the song ended in song. | |
| I had looked in vain for aught but a rose, | |
| As yet to think, to see, so beautiful, | |
| As ever has shone on a fair flower. | |
| Then the red-headed Dapple, | |
| Shaking his head, looked down at the three | |
| And down at the moon. | |
| I'll give my life for one another's; | |
| I'll give my life to none but one God; | |
| In the world I'll give to one. | |
| Sic brevis luctis amore et in corpore; | |
| non est aetas aerens amore tributa tibi: | |
| si quidquid esse amoris ubi est noui. | |
| He took them home, and soon set them down | |
| In a chest at the door of his room, | |
| And asked them if they knew | |
| What the moon was about. | |
| The lasses come and go, | |
| While the maidens stay; | |
| The idle, beardless | |
| Lords are gone, | |
| And the rustic crows are gone. | |
| Sae tengo, sae tengo, | |
| I nimber, ne fengo, | |
| I nimber i'm staie. | |
| Cui qui primus puer, me qui portat? | |
| Rome, tua puer, me qui possit quae? | |
| Cui qui primus puer, me qui portat. | |
| Thou shalt be at home and ever at home, | |
| In the cottage of my dear Lemminkainen, | |
| In the fairy dell, and the verdant meadows brown, | |
| In the midden and grove of the great oak, | |
| In the meadow and forest of the prairie. | |
| He spake with an evil spirit, | |
| And said: "My soul in spirit of yours | |
| Is like a glass, a void, | |
| Which should dissolve in the void. | |
| Hans Lorbass has been the most active artist since he got out of St. Cloud, | |
| throughout his life. His poems and works of prose are still | |
| best displayed by his friends and relatives. | |
| There they would ride, and they would talk, | |
| And talk; and then | |
| "If only we could go back," he said, | |
| "I can make it work for us. | |