Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song!
Love, like a mountain-wind upon an oak, falling upon me, shakes me leaf and bough.
No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
The Moon and Pleiades have set, / Midnight is nigh, / The time is passing, passing, yet / Alone I lie.
Love shook my heart/ Like the wind on the mountain/ Troubling the oak-trees
Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.