I honour thee! and why?Hast thou e'er lighten'd the sorrowsOf the heavy laden?Hast thou e'er dried up the tearsOf the anguish-stricken?Was I not fashion'd to be a manBy omnipotent Time,And by eternal Fate,Masters of me and thee?
And now we both are far away.
The friend's brow all-unruffled we should see.
Human passion, human pain;Many a blessing yet is rife,
Oh, how they hop, and run, and rave,And their clipp'd pinions wildly wave,--Poor princes, who must all endureThe pangs of love that nought can cure.
And long and bitter yearning;Her levity's changed to truth and tears
Thus she spoke, and soon she arrived at the foot of the broad stepsWith her companion, and both of them sat themselves down on the low wallRound the spring. She bent herself over, to draw out the water,He the other pitcher took up, and bent himself over,And in the blue of the heavens they saw their figures reflected,Waving, and nodding, and in the mirror their greetings exchanging."Now let me drink," exclaim'd the youth in accents of gladness.And she gave him the pitcher. They then, like old friends, sat together,Leaning against the vessels, when she address'd him as follows"Say, why find I you here without your carriage and horses,Far from the place where first I saw you. Pray how came you hither?"
Mould in human fashion,While his own creation may
Sweetheart caught I
While they their rites fulfil.
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