In its stream immersed,
    The lamps of heaven flash with a softer light;
        All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst,
    Diffuse themselves, and spend in love's delight
The beauty and the joy of their renewèd might.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822),
Adonais





Moonlight Vapor (Zion)

            the damp death
    Quenched its caress upon his icy lips,
        And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath
    Of moonlight vapour which the cold night clips,
It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822),
Adonais





Sapphire Heaven (Zion)

    Beyond a mortal man impassioned far
    At these voluptuous accents, he arose,
    Ethereal, flushed, and like a throbbing star
    Seen 'mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose
    Into her dream he melted, as the rose
    Blendeth its odor with the violet--
    Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows
    Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet
Against the windowpanes; St. Agnes' moon hath set.

-John Keats (1795-1821),
The Eve of St. Agnes





Phantom Ship (Zion)

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882),
Paul Revere's Ride





Soft Light (Honolulu)

            In its stream immersed,
    The lamps of heaven flash with a softer light;
        All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst,
    Diffuse themselves, and spend in love's delight
The beauty and the joy of their renewèd might.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822),
Adonais





Moon-lit Sparks (Honolulu)

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882),
Paul Revere's Ride





Gaze (Honolulu)

    So, purposing each moment to retire,
    She lingered still, Meantime, across the moors,
    Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire
    For Madeline. Beside the portal doors,
    Buttressed from moonlight, stands he, and implores
    All saints to give him sight of Madeline,
    But for one moment in the tedious hours,
    That he might gaze and worship all unseen;
Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss--in sooth such things have been.

-John Keats (1795-1821),
The Eve of St. Agnes





Lost Dreams (Honolulu)

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
    And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
    Of all my boyish dreams.
        And the burden of that old song,
        It murmurs and whispers still:
    "A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882),
My Lost Youth







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images © 2000 by Randy Wang
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