Yet tears they shed; they had their part

Of sorrow; for when time was ripe, The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again,

And left a want unknown before; Although the loss had brought us pain, That loss but made us love the more, 230

With farther lookings on. The kiss,

The woven arms, seem but to be Weak symbols of the settled bliss,

The comfort, I have found in thee; But that God bless thee, dear wrought

who

O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.

Last night I wasted hateful hours
Below the city's eastern towers;

I thirsted for the brooks, the showers;
I roll'd among the tender flowers;

I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth;
I look'd athwart the burning drouth
Of that long desert to the south.

Last night, when some one spoke his name,
From my swift blood that went and came
A thousand little shafts of flame
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame.

My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, And I am all aweary of my life

'O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Hear me, O earth, hear me, O hills, O caves That house the cold crown'd snake! O mountain brooks,

I am the daughter of a River-God,
Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all
My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls
Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, 40
A cloud that gather'd shape; for it may be
That, while I speak of it, a little while
My heart may wander from its deeper woe.

'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. He prest the blossom of his lips to mine, And added, "This was cast upon the board,

When all the full-faced presence of the Gods

Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon Rose feud, with question unto whom 't were

due;

But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve, Delivering, that to me, by common voice Elected umpire, Herè comes to-day, Pallas and Aphrodite, claiming each

80

This meed of fairest. Thou, within the

cave

Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine, Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods."

'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. It was the deep midnoon; one silvery cloud

Had lost his way between the piny sides

90

O happy tears, and how unlike to these! O happy heaven, how canst thou see my face?

O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight?

O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud,

There are enough unhappy on this earth,
Pass by the happy souls, that love to live;
I pray thee, pass before my light of life,
And shadow all my soul, that I may die.
Thou weighest heavy on the heart within,
Weigh heavy on my eyelids; let me die. 240

'O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me, more and more,

Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear

WE were two daughters of one race;
She was the fairest in the face.

The wind is blowing in turret and tree.
They were together, and she fell;
Therefore revenge became me well.
O, the earl was fair to see!

She died; she went to burning flame;
She mix'd her ancient blood with shame.

The wind is howling in turret and tree. Whole weeks and months, and early and late,

To win his love I lay in wait.

O, the earl was fair to see!

I made a feast; I bade him come;
I won his love, I brought him home.

The wind is roaring in turret and tree.
And after supper, on a bed,
Upon my lap he laid his head.

O, the earl was fair to see!

I kiss'd his eyelids into rest,
His ruddy cheek upon my breast.

The wind is raging in turret and tree.
I hated him with the hate of hell,
But I loved his beauty passing well.
O, the earl was fair to see!

I rose up in the silent night;

I made my dagger sharp and bright.
The wind is raving in turret and tree.
As half-asleep his breath he drew,
Three times I stabb'd him thro' and thro'.
O, the earl was fair to see!

I curl'd and comb'd his comely head,
He look'd so grand when he was dead.

The wind is blowing in turret and tree.
I wrapt his body in the sheet,
And laid him at his mother's feet.
O, the earl was fair to see!

ΤΟ

WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM

'The Palace of Art' was printed, with this introduction, in 1833, but was much altered in 1842 and somewhat in more recent editionsSee Notes.

I SEND you here a sort of allegory
For you will understand it of a soul,
A sinful soul possess'd of many gifts,
A spacious garden full of flowering weeds,
A glorious devil, large in heart and brain,
That did love beauty only beauty seen
In all varieties of mould and mind
And knowledge for its beauty; or if good,
Good only for its beauty, seeing not
That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge are
three sisters

That doat upon each other, friends to man,
Living together under the same roof,
And never can be sunder'd without tears.
And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall

be

Shut out from Love, and on her threshold

lie

Howling in outer darkness. Not for this Was common clay ta'en from the common earth

Moulded by God, and temper'd with the

tears

Of angels to the perfect shape of man.