1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
4 Or Love in a golden bowl?
(by W. Blake)
...
I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet.
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale, a deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked what could I ail
My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away.
The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start.
They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow
She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place And can return no more.
(First Love ~ by John Clare)
Questo è l'Olimpo della Lettertura, della Poesia, e della Cultura. Se hai piacere di partecipare alle nostre iniziative scrivi altrimenti appaga la tua conoscenza con gli articoli, la saggistica, la prosa, la poesia classica e/o contemporanea oppure partecipa ai nostri concorsi.
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