Читать книгу The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 327, August 16, 1828 - Various - Страница 4

In London's variegated streets

The eye, whatever pleases, meets;

For like another Street, I know,

Those Streets each day more charming grow.

As if by magic's changeful wand,

Taste, beauty, order, strength combine;

And shew a mighty master's hand

In every graceful curve and line.

But meaner temples strive in vain

Perfection's envied height to gain;

For in our matchless Street alone,

The charm of perfect beauty's known.

How blest, if at that living shrine,

With deepest feeling, warm and true,

The nameless happiness were mine,

To bend in form—and spirit too.

But no—though in my ardent breast,

The fires of love must ever rise,

Th' adverse circles of my fate,

Forbid the outward sacrifice.

My spirit breathes its inmost breath,

In this my first—my last confession:—

The passion will survive till death,

But never more can know expression.