If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way But now farewell. I am going a long way Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.' So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. HERE ended Hall, and our last light, that long Had wink'd and threaten'd darkness, flared and fell: At which the Parson, sent to sleep with sound, And waked with silence, grunted 'Good!' but we Sat rapt it was the tone with which he read Perhaps some modern touches here and there Redeem'd it from the charge of nothing ness Or else we loved the man, and prized his work; I know not but we sitting, as I said, The cock crew loud; as at that time of year The lusty bird takes every hour for dawn: Then Francis, muttering, like a man illused, 'There now-that's nothing!' drew a little back, And drove his heel into the smoulder'd log, That sent a blast of sparkles up the flue: And so to bed; where yet in sleep I seem'd To sail with Arthur under looming shores, Point after point; till on to dawn, when dreams Begin to feel the truth and stir of day, To me, methought, who waited with a crowd, There came a bark that, blowing forward, bore King Arthur, like a modern gentleman Of stateliest port; and all the people cried, 'Arthur is come again: he cannot die.' Then those that stood upon the hills behind Repeated-'Come again, and thrice as fair ;' And, further inland, voices echoed 'Come With all good things, and war shall be no more.' At this a hundred bells began to peal, That with the sound I woke, and heard indeed The clear church-bells ring in the Christmas morn. Such a lord is Love, Grew oratory. That sought to sow themselves like winged seeds, Born out of everything I heard and saw, Flutter'd about my senses and my soul; And vague desires, like fitful blasts of balm To one that travels quickly, made the air Of Life delicious, and all kinds of thought, That verged upon them, sweeter than the dream Dream'd by a happy man, when the dark Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn. squares, Beneath a broad and equal-blowing wind, Smelt of the coming summer, as one large cloud Drew downward: but all else of heaven was pure Up to the Sun, and May from verge to verge, And May with me from head to heel. And now, As tho' 'twere yesterday, as tho' it were The hour just flown, that morn with all its sound, (For those old Mays had thrice the life of these,) Rings in mine ears. The steer forgot to graze, And, where the hedge-row cuts the path way, stood, Leaning his horns into the neighbour field, And lowing to his fellows. From the woods Came voices of the well-contented doves. The lark could scarce get out his notes for joy, But shook his song together as he near'd His happy home, the ground. To left and right, The cuckoo told his name to all the hills; to me, Hear how the bushes echo! by my life, These birds have joyful thoughts. Think you they sing Like poets, from the vanity of song? what they have?' And I made answer, Were there nothing else For which to praise the heavens but only love, That only love were cause enough for praise.' Lightly he laugh'd, as one that read my thought, And on we went; but ere an hour had pass'd, We reach'd a meadow slanting to the North; Down which a well-worn pathway courted us To one green wicket in a privet hedge; This, yielding, gave into a grassy walk Thro' crowded lilac-ambush trimly pruned; And one warm gust, full-fed with perfume, blew Beyond us, as we enter'd in the cool. |