SONNET. On Leigh Hunt's Poem "The Story of Rimini." WHO loves to peer up at the morning sun, With half-shut eyes and comfortable cheek, Of Heaven-Hesperus-let him lowly speak He who knows these delights, and too is prone Will find at once a region of his own, A bower for his spirit, and will steer Where robins hop, and fallen leaves are sear. Given in the Literary Remains next to the preceding, and dated 1817. FRAGMENT. WHERE'S the Poet? show him! show him, Muses nine! that I may know him! 'Tis the man who with a man Is an equal, be he King, Or poorest of the beggar-clan, Or any other wondrous thing 'Tis the man who with a bird, All its instincts; he hath heard Comes articulate and presseth On his ear like mother-tongue. 5 ΙΟ 15 This is one of a group of undated fragments given at the end of Volume I of the Life, Letters &c. (1848). FRAGMENT: MODERN LOVE. AND what is love? It is a doll dress'd up Yawning and doting a whole summer long, Fools! if some passions high have warm'd the world, Should be more common than the growth of weeds. Fools! make me whole again that weighty pearl The Queen of Egypt melted, and I'll say That ye may love in spite of beaver hats. 5 10 15 Modern Love follows "Where's the Poet?" in the group of undated fragments at the end of Volume I of the Life, Letters &c. Fragment of "The Castle Builder." TO-NIGHT I'll have my friar-let me think A tambour-frame, with Venus sleeping there, A skull upon a mat of roses lying, Ink'd purple with a song concerning dying ; A cloud across the moon,-the lights bring in! And see what more my phantasy can win. 5 ΤΟ 15 20 This follows the preceding fragment in the first volume of the Life, Letters &c. It is a gorgeous room, but somewhat sad; Of eyesight on cinque-coloured potter's clay, Than on the marble fairness of old Greece. My table-coverlits of Jason's fleece 25 30 35 And black Numidian sheep-wool should be wrought, 40 Gold, black, and heavy, from the Lama brought. My ebon sofas should delicious be With down from Leda's cygnet progeny. My pictures all Salvator's, save a few. Of Titian's portraiture, and one, though new, 45 Of Haydon's in its fresh magnificence. My wine-O good! 'tis here at my desire, |