POEMS. CLARIBEL. A MELODY. WHERE Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With an ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone: At noon the wild bee hummeth About the moss'd headstone : At midnight the moon cometh, Her song the lintwhite swelleth, The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low-lieth. LILIAN. AIRY, fairy Lilian, Flitting, fairy Lilian, When I ask her if she love me, Claps her tiny hands above me, Laughing all she can ; She'll not tell me if she love me, Cruel little Lilian. When my passion seeks Pleasance in love-sighs, She, looking thro' and thro' me Thoroughly to undo me, Smiling, never speaks: So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple, From beneath her gather'd wimple Glancing with black-beaded eyes, Till the lightning laughters dimple The baby-roses in her cheeks; away she flies. Then When from crimson-threaded lips Silver-treble laughter trilleth : Prythee weep, May Lilian. Praying all I can, If prayers will not hush thee, Airy Lilian, Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee, Fairy Lilian. ISABEL. EYES not down-dropt nor over-bright, but fed Clear, without heat, undying, tended by Pure vestal thoughts in the translucent fane Of her still spirit; locks not wide dispread, Madonna-wise on either side her head; Sweet lips whereon perpetually did reign Revered Isabel, the crown and head, The stately flower of female fortitude, Of perfect wifehood and pure lowlihead. |