POEMS. CLARIBEL. A MELODY. WHERE Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With an ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone: At noon the wild bee hummeth About the mossed headstone: At midnight the moon cometh Where Claribel low-lieth. LILIAN. AIRY, fairy Lilian, Flitting, fairy Lilian, When I ask her if she love me, Laughing all she can; She 'll not tell me if she love me, When my passion seeks Pleasance in love-sighs, She, looking through and through me Thoroughly to undo me, Smiling, never speaks: So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple, From beneath her gathered wimple |