Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.

Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates…

My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis for object strange and high; It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.

What wondrous life in this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curio…

And now her eyes grew bright, and brighter still, Too bright for ours to look upon, suffused With many tears, and closed without a cloud. They set as sets the …

E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our Ashes live their wonted Fires.

They darted down and rose up like a wave Or buzzed impetuously as before; One would have thought the corpse was held a slave To living by the life it bore!