Robert Southey

Cold is thy hopeless heart, even as charity.

Cold is thy hopeless heart, even as charity.

. . . make the abhorrent eye
Roll back and close.

. . . make the abhorrent eye
Roll back and close.

Three things a wise man will not trust,
The wind, the sunshine of an April day,
And read more

Three things a wise man will not trust,
The wind, the sunshine of an April day,
And woman's plighted faith.

Now, motionless and dark, eluded search
Self-shrouded: and anon, starring the sky,
Rose like a shower of read more

Now, motionless and dark, eluded search
Self-shrouded: and anon, starring the sky,
Rose like a shower of fire.

Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray,
Each read more

Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray,
Each in the south melting.