Give back to streaming eyes
      The daylight of thy face that seems to shun
      Those who must live defrauded of their bliss!’
    ’Vex not your pure desire with tears and sighs: 
      For he who robs you of my light, hath none. 
      Dwelling in fear, sin hath no happiness;
      Since amid those who love, their joy is less,
      Whose great desire great plenty still curtails,
      Than theirs who, poor, have hope that never fails.’

THE SPEECH OF NIGHT.

Caro m’ e’l sonno.

    Sweet is my sleep, but more to be mere stone,
    So long as ruin and dishonour reign;
    To bear nought, to feel nought, is my great gain;
    Then wake me not, speak in an undertone!

LAMENT FOR LIFE WASTED.

Ohime, ohime!

    Ah me!  Ah me! whene’er I think
    Of my past years, I find that none
    Among those many years, alas, was mine;
    False hopes and longings vain have made me pine,
    With tears, sighs, passions, fires, upon life’s brink. 
    Of mortal loves I have known every one. 
    Full well I feel it now; lost and undone,
    From truth and goodness banished far away,
    I dwindle day by day. 
    Longer the shade, more short the sunbeams grow;
    While I am near to falling, faint and low.