And when the sappy field and wood

Grow green beneath the showery gray,
And rugged barks begin to bud,
And thro' damp holts new-flush'd with

may,
Ring sudden scritches of the jay,

On silken cushions half reclined ;

I watch thy grace; and in its place
My heart a charmed slumber keeps,

While I muse upon thy face ;
And a languid fire creeps

Thro' my veins to all my frame, Dissolvingly and slowly: soon

From thy rose-red lips My name Floweth ; and then, as in a swoon, With dinning sound my ears are rife,

My tremulous tongue faltereth,
I lose my colour, I lose my breath,

I drink the cup of a costly death, Brimm'd with delirious draughts of warm

est life. I die with my delight, before I hear what I would hear from

thee ;

Yet tell my name again to me,
I would be dying evermore,
So dying ever, Eleänore.

Then let wise Nature work her will, · And on my clay her darnel grow; Come only, when the days are still,

And at my headstone whisper low,
And tell me if the woodbines blow.

EARLY SONNETS.

1.

TO — As when with downcast eyes we muse

and brood, And ebb into a former life, or seem To lapse far back in some confused dream To states of mystical similitude ; If one but speaks or hems or stirs his chair, Ever the wonder waxeth more and more, So that we say, 'All this hath been before, All this hath been, I know not when or

where.' So, friend, when first I look'd upon your

face, Our thought gave answer each to each, so

trueOpposed mirrors each reflecting each

That tho' I knew not in what time or place, Methought that I had often met with you, And either lived in either's heart and

speech.

And now shake hands across the brink

Of that deep grave to which I go : Shake hands once more: I cannot sink So far-far down, but I shall know Thy voice, and answer from below.

II.

II.

When in the darkness over me

The four-handed mole shall scrape, Plant thou no dusky cypress-tree,

Nor wreathe thy cap with doleful crape, But pledge me in the flowing grape.

TO J. M. K. My hope and heart is with thee-thou

wilt be A latter Luther, and a soldier-priest

Ev'n while we gaze on it,
Should slowly round his orb, and slowly

grow

Every turn and glance of thine,
Every lineament divine,

Eleanore,
And the steady sunset glow,
That stays upon thee? For in thee

Is nothing sudden, nothing single; Like two streams of incense free

From one censer in one shrine,

Thought and motion mingle,
Mingle ever. Motions flow
To one another, even as tho'
They were modulated so

To an unheard melody,
Which lives about thee, and a sweep

Of richest pauses, evermore
Drawn from each other mellow-deep ;

Who may express thee, Eleanore ?

To a full face
Fix'd—then as slowly fade again,

And draw itself to what it was before ;

So full, so deep, so slow,

Thought seems to come and go
In thy large eyes, imperial Eleänore.

I stand before thee, Eleanore ;

I see thy beauty gradually unfold, Daily and hourly, more and more. I muse, as in a trance, the while

Slowly, as from a cloud of gold, Comes out thy deep ambrosial smile. I muse, as in a trance, whene'er

The languors of thy love-deep eyes Float on to me. I would I were

So tranced, so rapt in ecstasies,
To stand apart, and to adore,
Gazing on thee for evermore,
Serene, imperial Eleänore !

VII.
As thunder-clouds that, hung on high,

Roof'd the world with doubt and fear,
Floating thro' an evening atmosphere,
Grow golden all about the sky;
In thee all passion becomes passionless,
Touch'd by thy spirit's mellowness,
Losing his fire and active might

In a silent meditation, Falling into a still delight,

And luxury of contemplation : As waves that up a quiet cove

Rolling slide, and lying still

Shadow forth the banks at will : Or sometimes they swell and move,

Pressing up against the land,
With motions of the outer sea :

And the self-same influence

Controlleth all the soul and sense
Of Passion gazing upon thee.
His bow-string slacken'd, languid Love,

Leaning his cheek upon his hand,
Droops both his wings, regarding thee,

And so would languish evermore,
Serene, imperial Eleänore.

VIII.

vi. Sometimes, with most intensity Gazing, I seem to see Thought folded over thought, smiling

asleep, Slowly awaken'd, grow so full and deep In thy large eyes, that, overpower'd quite, I cannot veil, or droop my sight, But am as nothing in its light : As tho' a star, in inmost heaven set,

But when I see thee roam, with tresses

unconfined, While the amorous, odorous wind Breathes low between the sunset and

the moon ;
Or, in a shadowy saloon,

And when the sappy field and wood

Grow green beneath the showery gray,
And rugged barks begin to bud,
And thro' damp holts new-flush'd with

may,
Ring sudden scritches of the jay,

On ilken cushions half reclined;

I watch thy grace; and in its place
My heart a charmed slumber keeps,

While I muse upon thy face ;
And a languid fire creeps

Thro' my veins to all my frame,
Dissolvingly and slowly: soon

From thy rose-red lips my name
Floweth ; and then, as in a swoon,
With dinning sound my ears are rife,

My tremulous tongue faltereth,
I lose my colour, I lose my breath,

I drink the cup of a costly death, Primm'd with delirious draughts of warm

est life. I die with my delight, before I hear what I would hear from

thee ;

Yet tell my name again to me,
I would be dying evermore,
So dying ever, Eleanore.

Then let wise Nature work her will,

And on my clay her darnel grow ; Come only, when the days are still,

And at my headstone whisper low,
And tell me if the woodbines blow.

EARLY SONNETS.

1.

TO — As when with downcast eyes we muse

and brood, And ebb into a former life, or seem To lapse far back in some confused dream To states of mystical similitude ; If one but speaks or hems or stirs his chair, Ever the wonder waxeth more and more, So that we say, 'All this hath been before, All this hath been, I know not when or

where.' So, friend, when first I look'd upon your

My life is full of weary days,

But good things have not kept aloof, Nor wander'd into other ways :

I have not lack'd thy mild reproof, Nor golden largess of thy praise.

face,

And now shake hands across the brink

Of that deep grave to which I go : Shake hands once more: I cannot sink

So far-far down, but I shall know
Thy voice, and answer from below.

Our thought gave answer each to each, so

trueOpposed mirrors each reflecting eachThat tho' I knew not in what time or place, Methought that I had often met with you, And either lived in either's heart and

speech.

II.

II.
When in the darkness over me

The four-handed mole shall scrape,
Plant thou no dusky cypress-tree,

Nor wreathe thy cap with doleful crape, But pledge me in the flowing grape.

TO J. M. K. My hope and heart is with thee-thou

wilt be A latter Luther, and a soldier-priest

IV.

ALEXANDER

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 ho

mily; 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 pulpit-drone 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

Warrior of God, whose strong right

arm debased The throne of Persia, when her Satrap

bled At Issus by the Syrian gates, or fled Beyond the Memmian naphtha-pits, dis

graced For ever-thee (thy pathway sand-erased) Gliding with equal crowns two serpents

led Joyful to that palm-planted fountain-fed Ammonian Oasis in the waste. There in a silent shade of laurel brown

Apart the Chamian Oracle divine Shelter'd his unapproached mysteries : High things were spoken there, unhanded

down ; Only they saw thee from the secret

shrine Returning with hot cheek and kindled

eyes.

III.

MINE be the strength of spirit, full and

free,

Like some broad river rushing down

alone, With the selssame impulse wherewith he

was thrown From his loud fount upon the echoing

lea :Which with increasing might doth forward

fee By town, and tower, and hill, and cape,

and isle, And in the middle of the green salt sea Keeps his blue waters fresh for many a

mile. Mine be the power which ever to its

sway Will win the wise at once, and by degrees May into uncongenial spirits flow; Ev'n as the warm gull-stream of Florida Floats far away into the Northern seas The lavish growths of southern Mexico.

He thought to quell the stubborn hearts

of oak, Madman !—to chain with chains, and bind

with bands That island queen who sways the floods

and lands From Ind to Ind, but in fair daylight woke, When from her wooden walls, -lit by

sure hands, With thunders, and with lightnings, and

with smoke, Peal after peal, the British battle broke, Lulling the brine against the Coptic

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