Would that swift Daphne's lot might come to me,
Then would I still my soul and for an hour
Change to a laurel in the glancing shower.


X

Stresa

The moon grows out of the hills
A yellow flower,
The lake is a dreamy bride
Who waits her hour.

Beauty has filled my heart,
It can hold no more,
It is full, as the lake is full,
From shore to shore.


XI

Hamburg

The day that I come home,
What will you find to say,--
Words as light as foam
With laughter light as spray?

Yet say what words you will