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Why should it look like Maud ?
Ever and ever afresh they seem'd to grow. Was it he lay there with a fading eye! “ The fault was mine," he whisper'd, “fly!" Then glided out of the joyous wood The ghastly Wraith of one that I kuow; And there rang on a sudden a passionate cry, A cry for a brother's blood : It will ring in my heart and my ears, till I die, till
6. Ba from the Breton coast, Sick of a nameless fear, Back to the dark sea-line Looking, thinking of all I have lost, An old song vexes my ear; But that of Lamech is mine.
2. Is it goue! my pulses beatWhat was it? a lying trick of the brain ? Yet I thought I saw her stand, A shadow there at my feet, High over the shadowy land. It is gone; and the heavens fall in a gentle rain, When they should burst and drown with deluging
storms The feeble vassals of wine and anger and lust, The little hearts that know not how to forgive: Arise, my God, and strike, for we hold Thee just, Strike dead the whole weak race of venomous worms, That sting each other here in the dust; We are not worthy to live.
7. For years, a measureless ill, For years, forever, to part, But she, she would love me still, And as long, O God, as she Have a grain of love for me, So long, no doubt, no doubt, Shall I nurse in my dark heart, However weary, a spark of will Not to be trampled out.
Ser what a lovely shell,
Strange, that the mind, when fraugnt
2. What is it! a learned man Could give it a clumsy name. Let him name it who can, The beauty would be the same.
The tiny cell is forlorn,
Who knows if he be dead ?
6. T is a morning pure and sweet, And a dewy splendor falls On the little flower that clings To the turrets and the walls ; 'T is a morning pure and sweet, And the light and shadow fleet ; She is walking in the meadow, And the woodland echo rings; In a moment we shall meet; She is singing in the meadow, And the rivulet at her feet Ripples on in light and shadow To the ballad that she sings.
But the broad light glares and beats,
Do I hear her sing as of old,
DEAN, long dead,
Get thee hence, nor come again,
9. Then I rise, the eavedrops fall, And the yellow vapors choke The great city sounding wide; The day comes, a dull red ball Wrapt in drifts of Inrid smoke On the misty river-tide.
Wretchedest age, since Time began,
10. See, there is one of us sobbing,
Friend, to be struck by the public foe, No limit to his distress;
Then to strike him and lay him low, And another, a lord of all things, praying
That were a public merit, far, To his own great self, as I guess ;
Whatever the Quaker holds, from sin; And another, a statesman there, betraying
But the red life spilt for a private blowHis party-secret, fool, to the press ;
I swear to you, lawful and lawless war
Are scarcely even akin.
11. And wheedle a world that loves him not,
O me, why have they not buried me deep enough! For it is but a world of the dead.
Is it kind to have made me a grave so rough,
Me, that was never a quiet sleeper ? 4.
Maybe still I am but half-dead; Nothing but idiot gabble !
Then I cannot be wholly dumb : For the prophecy given of old
I will cry to the steps above my head, And then not understood,
And somebody, surely, some kind heart will come Has come to pass as foretold ;
To bury me, bury me
Deeper, ever so little deeper.
1. No, not to myself in the closet alone, But I heard it shouted at once from the top of the My life has crept so long on a broken wing house;
Thro' cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, Everything came to be known:
That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing: Who told him we were there?
My mood is changed, for it fell at a time of year
When the face of night is fair on the dewy downs, 5.
And the shining daffodil dies, and the Charioteer Not that gray old wolf, for he came not back
And starry Gemini hang like glorious crowns From the wilderness, full of wolves, where he used Over Orion's grave low down in the west, to lie:
That like a silent lightning under the stars He has gather'd the bones for his o'ergrown whulp She seem'd to divide in a dream from a band of the
blest, to crack; Crack them now for yourself, and howl, and die.
And spoke of a hope for the world in "he comirg 6.
"And in that hope, dear soul, let trouble have rest,
Knowing I tarry for thee," and pointed to Mars Prophet, curse me the blabbing lip,
As he glow'd like a ruddy shield on the Lion's And curse me the British vermin, the rat :
breast. I know not whether he came in the Hanover ship,
2. But I know that he lies and listens mute in an ancient mansion's crannies and holes :
And it was but a dream, yet it yielded a dear deArsenic, arsenic, sure, wonld do it,
light Except that now we poison our babes, poor souls ? To have look'd, tho' but in a dream, upon eyes so It is all used up for that.
That had been in a weary world my one thing bright; 7.
And it was but a dream, yet it lighten'd my despair Tell him now: she is standing here at my head; When I thought that a war would arise in desence Not beautiful now, not even kind;
of the right, He may take her now; for she never speaks her That an iron tyranny now should bend or cease, mind,
The glory of manhood stand on his ancient height, But is ever the one thing silent here.
Nor Britain's one sole God be the millionnaire: She is not of us, as I divine ;
No more shall commerce be all in all, and Peace She comes from another stiller world of the dead, Pipe on her pastoral hillock a languid note, Stiller, not fairer than mine.
And watch her harvest ripen, her herd increase,
Nor the caunon-bullet rust on a slothful shore, 8.
And the cobweb woven across the cannon's throat But I know where a garden grows,
Shall shake its threaded tears in the wind no more. Fairer than aught in the world beside,
3. All made up of the lily and rose That blow by night, when the season is good, And as months ran on and rumor of battle grew. To the sound of dancing music and flutes:
"It is time, it is time, O passionate heart," said I It is only flowers, they had no fruits,
(For I cleaved to a cause that I felt to be pure and And I almost fear they are not roses, but blood;
true), For the keeper was one, so full of pride,
“It is time, O passionate heart and morbid eye, He linkt a dead man there to a spectral bride; That old hysterical mock-disease should die." For he, if he had not been a Sultan of brutes, And I stood on a giant deck and mix'd my breath Would he have that hole in his side?
With a loyal people shouting a battle cry,
Till I saw the dreary phantom arise and fly 9.
Far into the North, and baitle, and seas of death, But what will the old man say? He laid a cruel snare in a pit To catch a friend of mine one stormy day;
Let it go or stay, so I wake to the higher aims Yet now I could even weep to think of it;
Of a land that has lost for a little her Inst of gold, For what will the old man say
And love of a peace that was full of wrongs and When he comes to the second corpse in the pit !
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
Horrible, hateful, monstrous, not to be told;
claims, Yet God's just wrath shall be wreak'd on a giant
liar; And many a darkness into the light shall leap And shine in the sudden making of splendid names, And noble thought be freer under the sun, And the heart of a people beat with one desire ; For the peace, that I deem'd no peace, is over and
done, And now by the side of the Black and the Baltic
deep, And deathful-grinning mouths of the fortress, flames The blood-red blossom of war with a heart of tire.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a tield and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
"But Philip chatter'd more than brook or bird: Old Philip; all about the fields you canght
His weary daylong chirping, like the dry High-elbow'd grigs that leap in summer grass.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a losty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
5. Let it flame or fade, and the war roll down like a
wind, We have proved we have hearts in a cause, we are
noble still, And myself have awaked, as it seems, to the better
mind ; It is better to fight for the good, than to rail at the
ill; I have felt with my native land, I am one with my
kind, I embrace the purpose of God, and the doom as
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
"O darling Katie Willows, his one child ! A maiden of our century, yet most meek: A daughter of our meadows, yet not coarse Straight, but as lissome as a hazel wand; Her eyes a bashfui azure, and her hair In gloss and hue the chestnut, when the sheil Divides threefold to show the fruit within.
THE BROOK ;
I make a sudden sally
To bicker down a valley.
Or slip between the ridges,
And half a hundred bridges.
To join the brimming river,
But I go on forever,
"Sweet Katie, once I did her a good turn, Her and her far-off cousin and betrothed, James Willows, of one name and heart with her. For here I came, twenty years back,-the week Before I parted with poor Edmund; crost By that old bridge which, half in ruins then, Still makes a hoary eyebrow for the gleam Beyond it, where the waters marry-crust, Whistling a random bar of Bonuy Doon, And push'd at Philip's garden-gate. The gate, Half-parted from a weak and scolding hinge, Stuck; and he clamor'd from a casement, 'run' To Katie somewhere in the walks below, * Run, Katie!" Katie never ran : she moved To meet me, winding under woodbine bowers, A little futter'd with her eyelids down, Fresh apple-blossom, blushing for a boon.
“What was it? less of sentiment than sense Had Katie; not illiterate: neither one Who babbling in the fount of fictive tears, And nursed by mealy-mouthed philanthropies, Divorce the Feeling from her mate the Deed.
" She told me. She and James had quarrell'd
Why? What cause of quarrel ? None, she said, no cause: James had no cause: but when I prest the cause, I learnt that James had flickering jealousies Which anger'd her. Who anger'd James? I said But Katie snatch'd her eyes at once from mine, And sketching with her slender-pointed foot Some figure like a wizard's pentagram On garden gravel, let my query pass Unclaim'd, in flushing silence, till I ask'd
I linger by my shingly hare ;
I loiter rouud my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river, For men may come aud men may go,
But I go on forever.
Yes, men may come and go; and these are gone.
If James were coming. “Coming every day,'
"O Katie, what I suffer'd for your sake!
"Then, while I breathed in sight of haven, he, Poor fellow, could he help it? recommenced, And ran thro' all the coltish chronicle, Wild Will, Black Bess, Tantivy, Tallyho, Reform, Whi'e Rose, Bellerophon, the Jilt, Arbaces and Phenomenon, and the rest, Till, not to die a listener, I arose, And with me Philip, talking still; and so We torn'd our foreheads from the falling fun, And following our own shadows thrice as long As when they follow'd us from Philip's door, Arrived, and found the sun of sweet content He-risen in Katie's eyes, and all things well.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
That grow for happy lovers.
Among my skimming swallows;
Against my sandy shallows.
So Lawrence Aylmer, seated on a stile In the long hedge, and rolling in his mind Old waifis of rhyme, and bowing o'er the brook A tousured head in middle age forlorn, Mused, and was mute. On a sudden a low breatlı of tender air made tremble in the hedge The fragile bindweed-bells and briony rings ; And he look'd up. There stood a maiden near, Waiting to pass. In much amaze he stared On eyes a bashful azure, and on hair In gloss and hue the chestnut, when the shell Divides threefold 10 show the fruit within : Ther, wondering, ask'd her, “Are you from the
farm!" “Yes," auswer'd she. “Pray stay a little : pardou
me : What do they call you ?".
" Katie." "That wer strange. What suruame?" “Willows." “No!" "That is
my name. " Tudeed!” and here he look'd so self-perplext, That Katie laugh'd, and laughing blush'd, till he Langh'd also, but as oue before he wakes, Who feels a glimmering strangeness in his dream. Then looking at her; “Too happy, fresh and fair, Too fresh and fair in our sad world's best bloom, To be the ghost of one who bore your name About these meadows, twenty years ago."
“Hare you not heard ?” said Katie, “we came
1. STILL on the tower stood the vane,
A black yew gloom'd the stagnant air, I peer'd ath wart the chancel pane
And saw the altar cold aud bare. A clog of lead was round my feet,
A band of pain across my brow : "Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall mcct
Before you hear my marriage vow."
2. I turn'd and hamm'd a bitter song
That mock'd the wholesome human heart, And then we met in wrath and wrong,
We met, but only meant to part.