I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife.
Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art:
I warm'd both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Oh! May sits crowned with hawthorn-flower,
And is Love's month, they say;
And Love's the fruit that is ripened best
By ladies' eyes in May.
This little toe is hungry-
This little toe is too,
This toe lies abed like a sleepy head,
And this toe cries 'Boo-hoo.'
This toe big and tall is the smartest of all
For he pops into stocking and shoe.
This little toe is tired,
This little toe needs rocking,
This little toe is sleepy you know,
But this little toe keeps talking,
This toe big and tall is the mischief of all,
For he made a great hole in his stocking.
This is the baby who doesn't do a thing,
This is the lady who loves to wear a ring,
This is their big sister, this is another,
And this stout thumb is their great sturdy brother.
847
Finite—to fail, but infinite to Venture—
For the one ship that struts the shore
Many's the gallant—overwhelmed Creature
Nodding in Navies nevermore—
Flower
under harvest sun - stranger
To bird, butterfly.
Flora gave me fairest flowers,
None so fair in Flora's treasure:
These I plac'd on Phillis' bowers,
She was pleas'd, and she my pleasure
Smiling meadows seem to say,
Come ye wantons, here to play.
My body is powdery white and round
I sink and bob like a mountain in a pond
The hand that kneads me is hard and rough
You can't destroy my true red heart
Fleas, lice,
a horse peeing
near my pillow.
Translated by Robert Hass
