SONG. THE OWL. WHEN cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round; Alone and warming his five wits, When merry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells the new-mown hay, And the cock hath sung beneath the thatc Twice or thrice his roundelay, Twice or thrice his roundelay; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits. SECOND SONG. TO THE SAME. THY tuwhits are lulled, I wot, That her voice, untuneful grown, I would mock thy chaunt anew; Not a whit of thy tuwhoo, Thee to woo to thy tuwhit, Thee to woo to thy tuwhit, With a lengthened loud halloo, Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo-o-o. RECOLLECTIONS OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS. I. WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flowed back with me, The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn, RECOLLECTIONS OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS. II. Anight my shallop, rustling through By garden porches on the brim, III. Often, where clear-stemmed platans guard The outlet, did I turn away The boat-head down a broad canal From the main river sluiced, where all The sloping of the moon-lit sward Of braided blooms unmown, which crept 23 IV. A motion from the river won Ridged the smooth level, bearing on My shallop through the star-strown calm, I entered, from the clearer light, Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb Of good Haroun Alraschid. V. Still onward; and the clear canal Is rounded to as clear a lake. |