THE ARRIVAL. 1. ALL precious things, discover'd late, And draws the veil from hidden worth. He travels far from other skies His mantle glitters on the rocks— 2. The bodies and the bones of those "They perish'd in their daring deeds." This proverb flashes thro' his head, "The many fail: the one succeeds." 3. He comes, scarce knowing what he seeks : He breaks the hedge: he enters there : The colour flies into his cheeks: He trusts to light on something fair; For all his life the charm did talk About his path, and hover near With words of promise in his walk, And whisper'd voices at his ear. 4. More close and close his footsteps wind; He stoops-to kiss her on his knee. "Love, if thy tresses be so dark, How dark those hidden eyes must be!" THE REVIVAL. 1. A TOUCH, a kiss! the charm was snapt. A breeze thro' all the garden swept, 2. The hedge broke in, the banner blew, The parrot scream'd, the peacock squall'd, 3. And last with these the king awoke, How say you? we have slept, my lords. My beard has grown into my lap." The barons swore, with many words, 'Twas but an after-dinner's nap. 4. "Pardy," return'd the king, "but still My joints are something stiff or so. My lord, and shall we pass the bill I mention'd half an hour ago? THE DEPARTURE. 1. AND on her lover's arm she leant, In that new world which is the old : 2. "I'd sleep another hundred years, O love, for such another kiss;" "O wake for ever, love," she hears, “O love, 'twas such as this and this.” And o'er them many a sliding star, many a merry wind was borne, And, stream'd thro' many a golden bar, And The twilight melted into morn. 3. "O eyes long laid in happy sleep!" "O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!" And o'er them many a flowing range Of vapour buoy'd the crescent-bark, And, rapt thro' many a rosy change, The twilight died into the dark. 4. "A hundred summers! can it be? And whither goest thou, tell me where ?" my father's court with me, "O seek For there are greater wonders there." And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, MORAL. 1. So, Lady Flora, take my lay, The wildweed-flower that simply blows? And is there any moral shut Within the bosom of the rose ? Y |