XII "What Gossamer Lures Thee Now? What Hope, What Name"
What gossamer lures thee now? What hope, what name Is on thy lips? What dreams to fruit have grown? Thou who hast turned ONE Poet-heart to stone, Is thine yet burning with its seraph flame? Let me give back a warning of thine own, That, falling from thee many moons ago, Sank on my soul like the prophetic moan Of some young Sibyl shadowing her own woe. The words are thine, and will not do thee wrong, I only bind their solemn charge to song. Thy tread is on a quicksand -- oh!英文原著 · 《Poems of Henry Timrod》
Once they stopped for a moment, and he looked down at her, as with flushed face she stood smiling and waving her gossamer fan, each motion stirring the frail leaves of the roses he had sent her.英文原著 · 《A Mountain Woman》
On, gay adventurers, bravely ride the billowy furze,
Golden foil and dewy pearls are swaying to a tune:
Quaff the brew of red raspberry through the vine veils gossamery. Till we turn when night comes down alleys of the moon.英文原著 · 《Ballads of Peace in War》
Now to the low leaves they cling, Each with coy fantastic pose, Each a petal of a rose Straining at a gossamer string.英文原著 · 《Charmides and Other》
Whereupon her dearest friend, Miss Scrumpkins, ran home to tell all about it. And, as everybody knew the Scrumpkinses, a shining gossamer of news was soon woven from one end of the street to the other.英文原著 · 《Hans Brinker》