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Victor Hugo - Beloved Name
Work rating: Low

The lily`s perfume pure, fame`s crown of light,
  The latest murmur of departing day,
Fond friendship`s plaint, that melts at piteous sight,
The mystic farewell of each hour at flight,
  The kiss which beauty grants with coy delay,--

The sevenfold scarf that parting storms bestow
  As trophy to the proud, triumphant sun;
The thrilling accent of a voice we know,
The love-enthralled maiden`s secret vow,
  An infant`s dream, ere life`s first sands be run,--

The chant of distant choirs, the morning`s sigh,
  Which erst inspired the fabled Memnon`s frame,--
The melodies that, hummed, so trembling die,--
The sweetest gems that `mid thought`s treasures lie,
  Have naught of sweetness that can match HER NAME!

Low be its utterance, like a prayer divine,
  Yet in each warbled song be heard the sound;
Be it the light in darksome fanes to shine,
The sacred word which at some hidden shrine,
  The selfsame voice forever makes resound!

O friends! ere yet, in living strains of flame,
  My muse, bewildered in her circlings wide,
With names the vaunting lips of pride proclaim,
Shall dare to blend the _one_, the purer name,
Which love a treasure in my breast doth hide,--

Must the wild lay my faithful harp can sing,
  Be like the hymns which mortals, kneeling, hear;
To solemn harmonies attuned the string,
As, music show`ring from his viewless wing,
  On heavenly airs some angel hovered near.
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