More from Bells and Pomegranates No. III: Dramatic Lyrics: Count Gismond (1842)
- Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?
- A minute’s success pays the failure of years.
- Autumn wins you best by this its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
- Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, — all were for me
- Deeds let escape are never to be done.
- Error has no end.
Last reviewed 2026-07-06