Page images

He saw thro' life and death, thro' good | And Freedom rear'd in that august sunrise and ill,

Her beautiful bold brow,
He saw thro' his own soul.

When rites and forms before his burning The marvel of the everlasting will,

eyes An open scroll,

Melted like snow. Before him lay: with echoing feet he There was no blood upon her maiden robes threaded

Sunn’d by those orient skies ;
The secretest walks of fame : But round about the circles of the globes
The viewless arrows of his thoughts were

Of her keen eyes
And wing’d with flame,

And in her raiment's hem was traced in

flame Like Indian reeds blown from his silver Wisdom, a name to shake tongue,

All evil dreams of power—a sacred name.
And of so fierce a flight,

And when she spake,
From Calpe unto Caucasus they sung,
Filling with light

Her words did gather thunder as they ran,

And as the lightning to the thunder And vagrant melodies the winds which Which follows it, riving the spirit of man, bore

Making earth wonder,
Them earthward till they lit;
Then, like the arrow-seeds of the field

So was their meaning to her words. No

The fruitful wit

Of wrath her right arm whirld,

But one poor poet's scroll, and with his Cleaving, took root, and springing forth


She shook the world.
Where'er they fell, behold,
Like to the mother plant in semblance,


A flower all gold,
And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling

Vex not thou the poet's mind
The winged shafts of truth,

With thy shallow wit :
To throng with stately blooms the breath-

Vex not thou the poet's mind ;
ing spring

For thou canst not fathom it.
Of Hope and Youth.

Clear and bright it should be ever,
So many minds did gird their orbs with Flowing like a crystal river ;

Bright as light, and clear as wind.
Tho' one did Aling the fire.
Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear ;
Of high desire.

All the place is holy ground;

Hollow smile and frozen sneer Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the

Come not here. world

Holy water will I pour Like one great garden show'd,

Into every spicy flower And thro’ the wreaths of floating dark of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around. upcurl'd,

The flowers would faint at your cruel Rare sunrise flow'd.







In your eye there is death,

Down shower the gambolling waterfalls There is frost in your breath

From wandering over the lea : Which would blight the plants. Out of the live-green heart of the dells Where you stand you cannot hear They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, From the groves within

And thick with white bells the clover-hill The wild-bird's din.

swells In the heart of the garden the merry bird High over the full-toned sea : chants.

O hither, come hither and furl your sails, It would fall to the ground if you came Come hither to me and to me : in.

Hither, come hither and frolic and play ; In the middle leaps a fountain

Here it is only the mew that wails;
Like sheet lightning,

We will sing to you all the day :
Ever brightening

Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,
With a low melodious thunder ;

For here are the blissful downs and dales. All day and all night it is ever drawn And merrily, merrily carol the gales,

From the brain of the purple mountain And the spangle dances in bight and bay,

Which stands in the distance yonder : And the rainbow forms and flies on the It springs on a level of bowery lawn,

land And the mountain draws it from Heaven Over the islands free ; above,

And the rainbow lives in the curve of the And it sings a song of undying love ;

sand; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and Hither, come hither and see ; full,

And the rainbow hangs on the poising You never would hear it ; your ears are

wave, so dull;

And sweet is the colour of cove and cave, So keep where you are : you are foul with And sweet shall your welcome be :

O hither, come hither, and be our lords, It would shrink to the earth if you came For merry brides are we :

We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak

sweet words :

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten THE SEA-FAIRIES. With pleasure and love and jubilee :

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten Slow saild the weary mariners and saw,

When the sharp clear twang of the golden Betwixt the green brink and the running

chords foam,

Runs up the ridged sea. Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms Who can light on as happy a shore prest

All the world o'er, all the world o’er? To little harps of gold ; and while they Whither away ? listen and stay : mariner, mused

mariner, fly no more. Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea.

THE DESERTED HOUSE. Whither away, whither away, whither

away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, Life and Thought have gone away

and the happy blossoming shore ? Side by side, Day and night to the billow the fountain Leaving door and windows wide : calls :

Careless tenants they !

sin ;


[ocr errors]



All within is dark as night :
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.

Chasing itself at its own wild will,
And far thro' the marish green and


The tangled water-courses slept,
Shot over with purple, and green, and




[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow : at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear ;
And floating about the under-sky,
Prevailing in weakness, the coronach

Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear ;
But anon her awful jubilant voice,
With a music strange and manifold,
Flow'd forth on a carol free and bold ;
As when a mighty people rejoice
With shawms, and with cymbals, and

harps of gold,
And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd
Thro' the open gates of the city afar,
To the shepherd who watcheth the even-

ing star.
And the creeping mosses and clambering

weeds, And the willow-branches hoar and dank, And the wavy swell of the soughing

reeds, And the wave-worn horns of the echoing

bank, And the silvery marish - flowers that

throng The desolate creeks and pools among, Were flooded over with eddying song.



The plain was grassy, wild and bare,
Wide, wild, and open to the air,
Which had built up everywhere

An under-roof of doleful gray.
With an inner voice the river ran,
Adown it floated a dying swan,

And loudly did lament.
It was the middle of the day.
Ever the weary wind went on,

And took the reed-tops as it went.

[merged small][ocr errors]


Now is done thy long day's work ; Some blue peaks in the distance rose, Fold thy palms across thy breast, And white against the cold-white sky, Fold thine arms, turn to thy rest. Shone out their crowning snows.

Let them rave. One willow over the river wept, Shadows of the silver birk And shook the wave as the wind did sigh ; Sweep the green that folds thy grave. Above in the wind was the swallow,

Let them rave.




The balm-cricket carols clear
In the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

Thee nor carketh care nor slander; Nothing but the small cold worm Fretteth thine enshrouded form.

Let them rave. Light and shadow ever wander O'er the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.



Thou wilt not turn upon thy bed ;
Chaunteth not the brooding bee
Sweeter tones than calumny?

Let them rave.
Thou wilt never raise thine head
From the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

[ocr errors]


What time the mighty moon was gather

ing light Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise, And all about him roll’d his lustrous eyes ; When, turning round a cassia, full in view, Death, walking all alone beneath a yew, And talking to himself, first met his

sight: * You must begone,' said Death, these

walks are mine.' Love wept and spread his sheeny vans

for flight ; Yet ere he parted said, “This hour is

thine : Thou art the shadow of life, and as the

tree Stands in the sun and shadows all be.

neath, So in the light of great eternity Life eminent creates the shade of death ; The shadow passeth when the tree shall

fall, But I shall reign for ever over all.'

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]



The gold-eyed kingcups fine ;
The frail bluebell peereth over
Rare broidry of the purple clover.

Let them rave.
Kings have no such couch as thine,
As the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

My heart is wasted with my woe,

There is no rest for me below,

When the long dun wolds are ribb’d with

snow, And loud the Norland whirlwinds blow,

Alone I wander to and fro,



Wild words wander here and there : God's great gift of speech abused Makes thy memory confused :

But let them rave.

Ere the light on dark was growing,

Oriana, At midnight the cock was crowing,

Oriana :



[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »