The earth with yellow pears And overgrown with roses wild Upon the pond is bent, And swans divine, With kisses drunk You drop your heads In the sublimely sobering water. But where, with winter come, am I To find, alas, the floweres, and where The sunshine And the shadow of the world? Cold the walls stand And the wordless, in the wind The weathercocks are rattling.

You seek life, and a godly fire Gushes and gleams for you out of the earth, As, with shuddering long, you Hurl yourself down to the flames of the Etna. So by a…

We were eager to have done and trusted to luck.

Now we were standing close to the summit's rim, gazing out into the endless East.

Sweet April-time - O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutc…

It is the month of June, The month of leaves and roses, When pleasant sights salute the eyes, And pleasant scents the noses.

Yet there was round thee such a dawn Of light, ne'er seen before, As fancy never could have drawn, And never can restore.