A Hymn to Bacchus

Bacchus, let me drink no more;
Wild are Seas, that want a shore.
When our drinking has no stint,
There is no one pleasure in't.
I have drank up for to please
Thee, that great cup Hercules:
Urge no more; and there shall be
Daffadills g'en up to Thee.

Lo-yang

A beautiful place is the town of Lo-yang:
The big streets are full of spring light!
The lads go driving with harps in their hands:
The mulberry girls go out to the fields with their baskets.
Golden whips glint at the horses' flanks,
Gauze sleeves brush the green boughs.
Racing dawn, the carriages come home—
And the girls with their high baskets full of fruit.

Butzemann

Es tanzt ein Bibabutzemann
in unserem Haus herum, fidebum.
Er rüttelt sich; er schüttelt sich,
er wirft sein Säcklein hinter sich.
Es tanzt ein Bibabutzemann
in unserem Haus herum.

Trust in Me

Trust in me, trust in me, I am able to impart Strength according
to your day, As you journey onward. I'll sustain with my right hand When you pass the
desert land; A pillar of fire shall light the way While you journey heavenward.

Love's Limit

Ye bubbling springs that gentle music makes
To lovers' plaints with heart-sore throbs immixt,
Whenas my dear this way her pleasure takes,
Tell her with tears how firm my love is fixt;
And, Philomel, report my timorous fears,
And, Echo, sound my heigh-ho's in her ears.
But if she asks if I for love will die,
Tell her, Good faith, good faith, good faith—not I!

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Short Poems