https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/ Tue, 14 Apr 2026 15:41:40 +0000 MyBB https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16730 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:56:51 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16730
Forth from the farmer’s hospitable nook,
Among the trees and where the waters gushed, -
A holy calmness all the welkin hushed,
And lo! before me stood, or rather shook,

A tall gaunt figure iron want had crushed
Into a thing scarce humanlike. He spoke,
Help in his native accents did invoke,
While though his frame a tide of diverse feelings rushed.

“Poor, wretched, and from Paris!” all he said;
Yet, plainly writen in his visage pale,
Fancy cold still piece out the mournful tale;

And, right or wrong, the history fully read
Of the wan outcast in a Gloucester vale,
In that sad, low, strange tongue, imploring bread.]]>
Forth from the farmer’s hospitable nook,
Among the trees and where the waters gushed, -
A holy calmness all the welkin hushed,
And lo! before me stood, or rather shook,

A tall gaunt figure iron want had crushed
Into a thing scarce humanlike. He spoke,
Help in his native accents did invoke,
While though his frame a tide of diverse feelings rushed.

“Poor, wretched, and from Paris!” all he said;
Yet, plainly writen in his visage pale,
Fancy cold still piece out the mournful tale;

And, right or wrong, the history fully read
Of the wan outcast in a Gloucester vale,
In that sad, low, strange tongue, imploring bread.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16729 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:56:09 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16729
O dainty diamond-ornamented fingers,
Puzzling plain folks, and leading some astray
Who pore o’er panes where the inscription lingers
Recording jovial rest, or anxious stay,

I rather wish your Latin were away,
Although the epigrams are obvious stingers;
And the fine Roman hand – it makes one say,
Was’s Coleridge, Southey, Lamb – was’t one of Earth’s fine singers?

“One touch,” et cetera; - banter as they may,
We see ourselves in him who could not pass
Nor leave remembrance of himself some way,

Though ‘t were but on the fragile face of glass.
And who this mild ambition would gainsay
In my opinion writes himself an ass!]]>
O dainty diamond-ornamented fingers,
Puzzling plain folks, and leading some astray
Who pore o’er panes where the inscription lingers
Recording jovial rest, or anxious stay,

I rather wish your Latin were away,
Although the epigrams are obvious stingers;
And the fine Roman hand – it makes one say,
Was’s Coleridge, Southey, Lamb – was’t one of Earth’s fine singers?

“One touch,” et cetera; - banter as they may,
We see ourselves in him who could not pass
Nor leave remembrance of himself some way,

Though ‘t were but on the fragile face of glass.
And who this mild ambition would gainsay
In my opinion writes himself an ass!]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16728 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:55:27 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16728
Twelve – but Macaulay had but now been closed;
Sleep could not quickly follow page so fine;
One – and strange figures filled my wakeful eye;
Two – and the lightning finds those eyes unclosed;

Three – and for no brief instant had I dozed;
Four – and slow morn did on the casement shine,
But where my strength for challenge so divine?
Five – still for slumber wholly indisposed

I on my restless pillow turn and twist,
Reaching a hopeful weariness by six;
And then all sense of outer objects missed,
I with the Cavaliers and Roundheads mix

Awhile, to rise an irate rouge, perplexed,
Vexing the house because myself am vexed.]]>
Twelve – but Macaulay had but now been closed;
Sleep could not quickly follow page so fine;
One – and strange figures filled my wakeful eye;
Two – and the lightning finds those eyes unclosed;

Three – and for no brief instant had I dozed;
Four – and slow morn did on the casement shine,
But where my strength for challenge so divine?
Five – still for slumber wholly indisposed

I on my restless pillow turn and twist,
Reaching a hopeful weariness by six;
And then all sense of outer objects missed,
I with the Cavaliers and Roundheads mix

Awhile, to rise an irate rouge, perplexed,
Vexing the house because myself am vexed.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16727 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:54:26 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16727
He was a native of the North countrie,
But left it early, - an adventurous lad;
His look I know not if severe or sad,
Shrewd surely and with even a latent glee;

And a broad deeply-furrowed brow had he.
Albeit no Scot, the accent made me glad,
Awaking love and kindly memory.
“With song and friendship we are wisely mad,”

Methought; “and this shall be a merry hour.
Of this man’s soul I hold the secret key:
Grave, silent, strong, yet shall he feel my power,

And that of the heart-linker, Sympathy.
One word shall bring the land for which he yearns,
One magic word. – I spoke it, - it was Burns.]]>
He was a native of the North countrie,
But left it early, - an adventurous lad;
His look I know not if severe or sad,
Shrewd surely and with even a latent glee;

And a broad deeply-furrowed brow had he.
Albeit no Scot, the accent made me glad,
Awaking love and kindly memory.
“With song and friendship we are wisely mad,”

Methought; “and this shall be a merry hour.
Of this man’s soul I hold the secret key:
Grave, silent, strong, yet shall he feel my power,

And that of the heart-linker, Sympathy.
One word shall bring the land for which he yearns,
One magic word. – I spoke it, - it was Burns.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16726 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:53:44 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16726
The mirror of my life, ye lie before me!
Reflecting all its gladness and its gloom; -
There the wild joy ye never may restore me,
That, when I saw ye first, came flushing o’er me;

And there the eternal barrier of the tomb.
Crowding upon me here what memories come,
Glad meeting, pleasant lingering, and gay strolling:
Alas, how briefly shines the vision for me!

Away the glory and the joy are rolling
Away the glowing Future which it bore me!
And though the mind, confusing sense and sight,

Comes to my startled ear the death-bell tolling;
And a shround covers Beauty and Delight,
Mantling the gauds of morn in glooms of night.]]>
The mirror of my life, ye lie before me!
Reflecting all its gladness and its gloom; -
There the wild joy ye never may restore me,
That, when I saw ye first, came flushing o’er me;

And there the eternal barrier of the tomb.
Crowding upon me here what memories come,
Glad meeting, pleasant lingering, and gay strolling:
Alas, how briefly shines the vision for me!

Away the glory and the joy are rolling
Away the glowing Future which it bore me!
And though the mind, confusing sense and sight,

Comes to my startled ear the death-bell tolling;
And a shround covers Beauty and Delight,
Mantling the gauds of morn in glooms of night.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16725 Mon, 16 Jul 2007 07:52:41 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=16725
Waters! all calm and bright as heaven above,
In peace and beauty still your course pursing;
Ruins! and ye wild springs! that fondly love
To throw a deathless sweetness over ruin;

Hills! o’er whose brows in other days we bounded
When fresh delight was in our hearts and eyes,
And all that lay before us or surrounded,
Shone with a beauty heightened by surprise:

Had earth a stray bliss, then the quick sense found it,
From morn’s first blush to ray of evening star;
And then the natural revel well we rounded,

Lifting full cups to loving hearts afar.
Well may our own faint, staggered and astrounded,
At thought of what and where those loved ones are.]]>
Waters! all calm and bright as heaven above,
In peace and beauty still your course pursing;
Ruins! and ye wild springs! that fondly love
To throw a deathless sweetness over ruin;

Hills! o’er whose brows in other days we bounded
When fresh delight was in our hearts and eyes,
And all that lay before us or surrounded,
Shone with a beauty heightened by surprise:

Had earth a stray bliss, then the quick sense found it,
From morn’s first blush to ray of evening star;
And then the natural revel well we rounded,

Lifting full cups to loving hearts afar.
Well may our own faint, staggered and astrounded,
At thought of what and where those loved ones are.]]>