Clear and bright it should be ever, Flowing like a crystal river; Bright as light, and clear as wind.

II.

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear;
All the place is holy ground;
Hollow smile and frozen sneer
Come not here.

Holy water will I pour
Into every spicy flower

Of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around. The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer.

In your eye there is death,
There is frost in your breath
Which would blight the plants.
Where you stand you cannot hear
From the groves within
The wild-bird's din.

In the heart of the garden the merry bird chants,

It would fall to the ground if you came in.

In the middle leaps a fountain

Like sheet lightning,

Ever brightening

With a low melodious thunder;
All day and all night it is ever drawn

From the brain of the purple mountain
Which stands in the distance yonder :

It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven above,

And it sings a song of undying love; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and full,

You never would hear it; your ears are so dull;

So keep where you are: you are foul with sin;

It would shrink to the earth if you came in.

THE SEA-FAIRIES.

SLOW sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam,

Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest

To little harps of gold; and while they mused

Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle

sea.

Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more.

Whither away from the high green field. and the happy blossoming shore? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls:

Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea:

Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells

High over the full-toned sea :

O hither, come hither and furl your sails,
Come hither to me and to me :
Hither, come hither and frolic and play;
Here it is only the mew that wails;
We will sing to you all the day :
Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,

For here are the blissful downs and dales,
And merrily, merrily carol the gales,
And the spangle dances in bight and

bay,

And the rainbow forms and flies on the

land

Over the islands free;

And the rainbow lives in the curve of the

sand;

Hither, come hither and see;

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.

A DIRGE.

1.

Now is done thy long day's work ;
Fold thy palms across thy breast,
Fold thine arms, turn to thy rest.
Let them rave.

Shadows of the silver birk

Sweep the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave.

II.

Thee nor carketh care nor slander; Nothing but the small cold worm Fretteth thine enshrouded form. Let them rave.

Light and shadow ever wander O'er the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

VI.

The gold-eyed kingcups fine; The frail bluebell peereth over Rare broidry of the purple clover. Let them rave.

Kings have no such couch as thine, As the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave.

VII.

Wild words wander here and there :
God's great gift of speech abused
Makes thy memory confused :
But let them rave.

The balm-cricket carols clear
In the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.