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Let us go

So sing that other song I made,

And fires your narrow casement glass,
Hall-anger'd with my happy lot, Touching the sullen pool below :
Toe day, when in the chestnut shade On the chalk-hill the bearded grass
I found the blue Forget-me-not.

Is dry and dewless.
Love that hath us in the net,
Can he pass, and we forget ?

Many suns arise and set.
Many a chance the years beget.

O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!
Love the gift is Love the debt.

O sun, that from thy noonday height
Even so.

Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Love is hurt with jar and fret.

Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Love is made a vague regret.

Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Eyes with idle tears are wet.

Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deafand blind,
Idle habit links us yet.
What is love? for we forget :

I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
Ah, no! no!

Last night I wasted hateful hours

Below the city's eastern towers : Look thro' mine eyes with thine. True

I thirsted for the brooks, the showers : wife,

I roll'd among the tender flowers : Round my true heart thine arms entwine

I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth; My other dearer life in life,

I look'd athwart the burning drouth Look thro' my very soul with thine !

Of that long desert to the south. Untouch'd with any shade of years,

May those kind eyes for ever dwell! Last night, when some one spoke his They have not shed a many tears,

name, Dear eyes, since first I knew them From my swift blood that went and came well.

A thousand little shafts of flame

Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. Yet tears they shed: they had their part O Love, O fire! once he drew

Of sorrow : for when time was ripe, With one long kiss my whole soul thro' The still affection of the heart

My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again,

Before he mounts the hill, I know And left a want unknown before ; He cometh quickly : from below Although the loss had brought us pain, Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow That loss but made us love the more, Before him, striking on my brow.

In my dry brain my spirit soon, With farther lookings on. The kiss,

Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, The woven arms, seem but to be

Faints like a dazzled morning moon. Weak symbols of the settled bliss,

The comfort, I have found in thee : The wind sounds like a silver wire, But that God bless thee, dear - who | And from beyond the noon a fire wrought

Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher Two spirits to one equal mind- The skies stoop down in their desire ; With blessings beyond hope or thought, And, isled in sudden seas of light, With blessings which no words can find. My heart, pierced thro' with fierce

delight, Arise, and let us wander forth,

Bursts into blossom in his sight.
To yon old mill across the wolds ;
For look, the sunset, south and north, My whole soul waiting silently,
Winds all the vale in rosy folds,

All naked in a sultry sky,


Droops blinded with his shining eye : Is lily-cradled : I alone awake.
I will possess him or will die.

My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, I will grow round him in his place, My heart is breaking, and my eyes are Grow, live, die looking on his face,

dim, Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace. And I am all aweary of my life.

"O mother Ida, many-fountain's Ida, ENONE.

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. THERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier

Hear me, O Earth, hear me, O Hills, o

Caves Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.

That house the cold crown'd snake ! 0 The swimming vapour slopes athwart the

mountain brooks, glen, Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine

I am the daughter of a River-God, to pine,

Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all And loiters, slowly drawn. On either

My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls hand

Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, The lawns and meadow - ledges midway

A cloud that gather'd shape: for it may be down

That, while I speak of it, a little while Hang rich in flowers, and far below them

My heart may wander from its deeper woe.

O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, The long brook falling thro' the clov'n

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. ravine

I waited underneath the dawning hills, In cataract after cataract to the sea.

Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark, Behind the valley topmost Gargarus And dewy dark aloft the mountain pine : Stands up and takes the morning : but in

Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris, front

Leading a jet-black goat white-horn'd, The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal

white-hooved, Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel,

Came up from reedy Simois all alone. The crown of Troas.

Hither came at noon O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Mournful (Enone, wandering forlorn Far-off the torrent call'd me from the cleft: Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills. Far up the solitary morning smote Her cheek had lost the rose, and round The streaks of virgin snow. With downher neck

dropt eyes Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest. I sat alone : white-breasted like a star She, leaning on a fragment twined with Fronting the dawn he moved ; a leopari vine,

skin Sang to the stillness, till the mountain- Droop'd from his shoulder, but his sunny shade

hair Sloped downward to her seat from the Cluster'd about his temples like a God's:

And his cheek brightend as the foam-bow

brightens "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,

When the wind blows the foam, and all Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. For now the noonday quiet holds the hill:

Went forth to embrace him coming ere The grasshopper is silent in the grass :

he came. The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, Rests like a shadow, and the winds are • Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. dead.

He smiled, and opening out his milkThe purple flower droops: the golden bee

white palm

upper cliff.

my heart

Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold, This way and that, in many a wild festoon That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs And listen'd, the full-flowing river of With bunch and berry and flower thro' speech

and thro'. Came down upon my heart.

My own (Enone, "O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Beautiful-brow'd Enone, my own soul, On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit, Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and ingray'n

lean'd · For the most fair,' would seem to award | Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew. it thine,

Then first I heard the voice of her, to As lovelier than whatever Oread haunt

whom The knolls of Ida, loveliest in all grace Coming thro' Heaven, like a light that Of movement, and the charm of married

grows brows."

Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods

Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made • Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Proffer of royal power, ample rule He prest the blossom of his lips to mine, Unquestion'd, overflowing revenue And added “This was cast upon the Wherewith to embellish state, “from

board, When all the full-faced presence of the And river-sunder'd champaign clothed

Gods Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon Or labour'd mine undrainable of ore. Rose feud, with question unto whom Honour,” she said, “and homage, tax 'twere due :

and toll, But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve, From many an inland town and haven Delivering, that to me, by common voice large, Elected umpire, Here comes to-day, Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing Pallas and Aphrodité, claiming each

citadel This meed of fairest. Thou, within the In glassy bays among her tallest towers."

many a vale

with corn,


Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine, O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard Still she spake on and still she spake of Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of

power, Gods.”

“Which in all action is the end of all;

Power fitted to the season ; wisdom-bred • Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. And throned of wisdom--from all neighIt was the deep midnoon : one silvery

bour crowns cloud

Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand Had lost his way between the piney sides Fail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon Of this long glen. Then to the bower

from me, they came,

From me, Heaven's Queen, Paris, to thee Naked they came to that smooth-swarded king-born, bower,

A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born, And at their feet the crocus brake like Should come most welcome, seeing men, fire,

in power Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,

Only, are likest gods, who have attain'd Lotos and lilies : and a wind arose, Rest in a happy place and quiet seats And overhead the wandering ivy and Above the thunder, with undying bliss vine,

In knowledge of their own supremacy."

of power

deep hair

• Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

• Here she ceas'd, She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit | And Paris ponder'd, and I cried, Out at arm's-length, so much the thought


Give it to Pallas !” but he heard me not, Flatter'd his spirit ; but Pallas where she Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!

stood Somewhat apart, her clear and bared O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, limbs

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. O'erthwarted with the brazen - headed Idalian Aphroditė beautiful, spear

Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,

wells, The while, above, her full and earnest With rosy slender fingers backward drew eye

From her warm brows and bosom her Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek

Ambrosial, golden round her lucid throat Kept watch, waiting decision, made And shoulder : from the violets her light reply.


Shone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded ""Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self

form control,

Between the shadows of the vine-bunches These three alone lead life to sovereign Floated the glowing sunlights, as she power.

moved. Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncallid for) but to live by * Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. law,

She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes, Acting the law we live by without fear ; The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh And, because right is right, to follow right Half-whisper'd in his ear, “I promise Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence."


The fairest and most loving wise in *Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

Greece,” Again she said : “I woo thee not with She spoke and laugh'd : I shut my sight gifts.

for fear : Sequel of guerdon could not alter me But when I look'd, Paris had raised his To fairer. Judge thou me by what I am,

arm, So shalt thou find me fairest.

And I beheld great Here's angry eyes,

Yet, indeed, As she withdrew into the golden cloud, If gazing on divinity disrobed

And I was left alone within the bower ; Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair, And from that time to this I am alone, Unbias'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sure And I shall be alone until I die. That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,

• Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood, Fairest—why fairest wife ? am I not fair? Shall strike within thy pulses, like a My love hath told me a thousand God's,

times. To push thee forward thro’a life of shocks, Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday, Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow When I past by, a wild and wanton pard, Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown Eyed like the evening star, with playful will,

tail Circled thro' all experiences, pure law, Crouch'd fawning in the weed. Most Commeasure perfect freedom.”

loving is she?



Ah me, my mountain shepherd, that my Seal'd it with kisses ? water'd it with

tears? Were wound about thee, and my hot lips O happy tears, and how unlike to these ! prest

O happy Heaven, how canst thou see my Close, close to thine in that quick-falling

face? dew

O happy earth, how canst thou bear my Of fruitful kisses, thick as Autumn rains

weight? Flash in the pools of whirling Simois. O death, death, death, thou ever-floating

cloud, O mother, hear me yet before I die. There are enough unhappy on this earth, They came, they cut away my tallest Pass by the happy souls, that love to live: pines,

I pray thee, pass before my light of life, My tall dark pines, that plumed the And shadow all my soul, that I may die. craggy ledge

Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, High over the blue gorge, and all between Weigh heavy on my eyelids : let me die. The snowy peak and snow-white cataract Foster'd the callow eaglet—from beneath O mother, hear me yet before I die. Whose thick mysterious boughs in the I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts dark morn

Do shape themselves within me, more and The panther's roar came muffled, while

more, I sat

Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear Low in the valley. Never, never more Dead sounds at night come from the inShall lone Enone see the morning mist

most hills, Sweep thro' them ; never see them over- Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly see laid

My far-off doubtful purpose, as a mother With narrow moon-lit slips of silver cloud, Conjectures of the features of her child Between the loud stream and the trem- Ere it is born : her child !-ashudder comes bling stars.

Across me : never child be born of me,

Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes ! O mother, hear me yet before I die. I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds, O mother, hear me yet before I die. Among the fragments tumbled from the Hear me, 0 earth. I will not die alone, glens,

Lest their shrill happy laughter come to Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her

Walking the cold and starless road of The Abominable, that uninvited came

Death Into the fair Peleïan banquet-hall, Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love And cast the golden fruit upon the board,

With the Greek woman. I will rise and And bred this change ; that I might speak

go my mind,

Down into Troy, and ere the stars come And tell her to her face how much I hate

forth Her presence, hated both of Gods and Talk with the wild Cassandra, for she says

A fire dances before her, and a sound

Rings ever in her ears of armed men. O mother, hear me yet before I die. What this may be I know not, but I Hath he not sworn his love a thousand

know times,

That, wheresoe'er I am by night and In this green valley, under this green hill, day, Ev’n on this hand, and sitting on this All earth and air seem only burning sione?




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