19 Dressing their hair with the white sea flower; And holding them back by their flowing locks I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kiss'd me Laughingly, laughingly; And then we would wander away, away To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high, Chasing each other merrily. III. There would be neither moon nor star; But the wave would make music above us afar Low thunder and light in the magic night Neither moon nor star. We would call aloud in the dreamy dells, Call to each other and whoop and cry All night, merrily, merrily; They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells, Laughing and clapping their hands be tween, All night, merrily, merrily : But I would throw to them back in mine Laughingly, laughingly. Oh! what a happy life were mine Combing her hair In a golden curl With a comb of pearl, On a throne? II. I would be a mermaid fair; I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair; And still as I comb'd I would sing and say, 'Who is it loves me? who loves not me?' I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall Low adown, low adown, From under my starry sea-bud crown Low adown and around, And I should look like a fountain of gold Springing alone With a shrill inner sound, Over the throne In the midst of the hall; Till that great sea-snake under the sea From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps Would slowly trail himself sevenfold Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate With his large calm eyes for the love of me. And all the mermen under the sea Die in their hearts for the love of me. We would run to and fro, and hide and seek, On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells, Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea. But if any came near I would call, and shriek, And adown the steep like a wave I would leap From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells; For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list, Of the bold merry mermen under the sea; They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me, In the purple twilights under the sea; But the king of them all would carry me, Woo me, and win me, and marry me, and soft Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea, All looking down for the love of me. ADELINE. I. MYSTERY of mysteries, Faintly smiling Adeline, Nor unhappy, nor at rest, But beyond expression fair Thy rose-lips and full blue eyes II. Whence that aery bloom of thine, Like a lily which the sun Looks thro' in his sad decline, III. What hope or fear or joy is thine? Do beating hearts of salient springs Hast thou heard the butterflies What they say betwixt their wings? Or in stillest evenings With what voice the violet woos To his heart the silver dews? Or when little airs arise, To the mosses underneath? Hast thou look'd upon the breath Of the lilies at sunrise? Wherefore that faint smile of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline? IV. Some honey-converse feeds thy mind, His curtains, wasting odorous sighs All night long on darkness blind. What aileth thee? whom waitest thou With thy soften'd, shadow'd brow, And those dew-lit eyes of thine, Thou faint smiler, Adeline? Encircles all the heart, and feedeth The senses with a still delight Of dainty sorrow without sound, Like the tender amber round, Which the moon about her spreadeth, Moving thro' a fleecy night. V. Lovest thou the doleful wind When thou gazest at the skies? With melodious airs lovelorn, And ye talk together still, MARGARET. II. You love, remaining peacefully, To hear the murmur of the strife, But enter not the toil of life. Your spirit is the calmed sea, Laid by the tumult of the fight. You are the evening star, alway Remaining betwixt dark and bright: Lull'd echoes of laborious day Come to you, gleams of mellow light III. What can it matter, Margaret, What songs below the waning stars The lion-heart, Plantagenet, Sang looking thro' his prison bars? Exquisite Margaret, who can tell The last wild thought of Chatelet, Just ere the falling axe did part The burning brain from the true heart, Even in her sight he loved so well? I. O SWEET pale Margaret, O rare pale Margaret, What lit your eyes with tearful power, From all things outward you have won A tearful grace, as tho' you stood Between the rainbow and the sun. The very smile before you speak, That dimples your transparent cheek, IV. A fairy shield your Genius made And gave you on your natal day. Your sorrow, only sorrow's shade, Keeps real sorrow far away. You are not less divine, Than your twin-sister, Adeline. Touch'd with a somewhat darker hue, But ever trembling thro' the dew |