"Oh, sweetheart, see, how shadowy, Of some occult magician's rearing, Or swung in space of Heaven's grace, Dissolving, dimly reappearing, Afloat upon ethereal tides St. Paul above the city rides!" A rumour broke through the thin smoke Enwreathing Abbey, Tower, and Palace, The parks, the squares, the thoroughfares, The million-peopled lanes and alleys, An ever-muttering prisoned storm, The heart of London beating warm. II-Down-a-down Foxes peeped from out their dens, Day grew pale and olden; Blackbirds, willow-warblers, wrens, Staunched their voices golden. High, oh high, from the opal sky, Shouting against the dark, "Why, why, why must the day go by?" Fell a passionate lark. But the cuckoos beat their brazen gongs, Sounding, sounding so; And the nightingales poured in starry songs A galaxy below. Slowly tolling the vesper bell Ushered the stately night. Down-a-down in a hawthorn dell A boy and a girl and love's delight. The Love-Story of Luigi Tansillo By Richard Garnett Now that my wings are spread to my desire, The more vast height withdraws the dwindling land, Wider to wind these pinions I expand, And earth disdain, and higher mount and higher Nor of the fate of Icarus inquire, Or cautious droop, or sway to either hand; Dead I shall fall, full well I understand; But who lives gloriously as I expire? Yet hear I my own heart that pleading cries, Stay, madman! Whither art thou bound? Descend! Ruin is ready Rashness to chastise. But I, Fear not, though this indeed the end; Cleave we the clouds, and praise our destinies, If noble fall on noble flight attend.