To kiss a pair of red lips small
Full many a lover sighs;
If I kiss anything at all,
Let it be Sophy’s eyes.
The eyes, the eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
Too dear I prize the eyes, the eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
Were I the Czar, my kingly crown,
My troops and victories,
And fair renown I’d all lay down
To kiss but Sophy’s eyes.
The charming eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
Too dear I prize the charming eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
Perhaps I’ve seen a fairer face,
Though hers may well surprise;
A form perhaps of lovelier grace,
But, oh! the eyes, the eyes!
The matchless eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
I well may prize the matchless eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
What with the polished diamond-stone
Can vie beneath the skies?
Oh, it is vied and far outshone
By Sophy’s beaming eyes.
By Sophy’s eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
Well may I prize the beaming eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
The sun of June burns furiously,
And brooks and meadows dries;
But, oh, with more intensity
Burn cruel Sophy’s eyes!
The wicked eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
Too dear I prize the wicked eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
O, soon beneath their piercing ray,
Like some parched plant which dies,
Wither shall I, poor youth, away?
And all for Sophy’s eyes.
But bless the eyes, whose witcheries
Have filled my heart with care;
Till Death I’ll prize and bless the eyes
Of Sophy Ribeaupierre.
HARMODIUS AND ARISTOGITON
_From the Greek_
With the leaves of the myrtle I’ll cover my brand,
Like Harmodius and Aristogiton of yore;
When the tyrant they slew, and their dear native land
They caused with just laws to be governed once more.
O, beloved Harmodius! thou still art not dead,
In the Isles of the Blest thou still livest, they say;
Where the swift-heel’d Achilles and bold Diomed
Through sweet flowery meadows continually stray.
With the leaves of the myrtle I’ll cover my blade,
Like Harmodius and Aristogiton of yore;
Who, whilst the high rites to Athena were paid,
The bold tyrant Hipparchus extended in gore.
And on earth ever, ever your glory shall glow,
Harmodius and Aristogiton, sun-bright;
Because ye the damnable tyrant laid low,
And restored to your country her law and her right.