And sweet shall your welcome bc:
O hither, come hither, and be our lords,
For merry brides are we :

We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words:

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
With pleasure and love and jubilee :
O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
When the sharp clear twang of the
golden chords

Runs up the ridged sea.

Who can light on as happy a shore
All the world o'er, all the world o'er?
Whither away? listen and stay: mar-
iner, mariner, fly no more.

THE DESERTED HOUSE.
I.

LIFE and Thought have gone away
Side by side,

Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they!

11.

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

III.

Close the door, the shutters close,

Cr thro' the windows we shall see The nakedness and vacancy Of the dark deserted house. IV.

Come away: no more of mirth

Is here or merry-maling sound. The house was builded of the earth, And shall fall again to ground.

V.

Come away for Life and Thought
IIere no longer dwell;

But in a city glorious

A great and distant city-have bought A mansion incorruptible.

Would they could have stayed with us!

THE DYING SWAN.

I.

Ta 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.

II.

Some blue peaks in the distance rose, And white against the cold-white sky, Shone out their crowning snows,

One willow over the river wept, And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;

Above in the wind was the swallow, Chasing itself at its own wild will, And far thro' the marish green and still

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

III

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
stole

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 evening 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.

SONNET TO J. M. K.

My hope and heart is with thee-tho wilt be

A latter Luther, and a soldier-priest To scare church-harpies from the master's feast;

Our dusted velvets have much need of thee:

Thou art no sabbath-drawler of old saws,

Distill'd from some worm-canker'd homily;

But spurr'd at heart with fieriest energy

To embattail and to wall about thy

cause

With iron-worded proof, hating to hark The humming of the drowsy pulpitdrone

Half God's good sabbath, while the worn-out clerk

Brow-beats his desk below. Thou from a throne

Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark

Arrows of lightnings. I will stand and mark.

THE LADY OF SIIALOTT.
PART I.

ON either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by

To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below

The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle in bowers

The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd

Skimming down to Camelot :
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?