II. Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear; Holy water will I pour Into every spicy flower Of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around. The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer. In your eye there is death, Where you stand you cannot hear The wild-bird's din. In the heart of the garden the merry bird chants. It would fall to the ground if you came in. In the middle leaps a fountain Ever brightening Which stands in the distance yonder: It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven above, And it sings a song of undying love; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and full, You never would hear it; your ears are so dull; So keep where you are: you are foul with sin; It would shrink to the earth if you came in. Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea. Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls : Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells High over the full-toned sea: O hither, come hither and furl your sails, Come hither to me and to me : And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the THE DESERTED HOUSE. 1. LIFE and Thought have gone away Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they! II. All within is dark as night: III. Close the door, the shutters close, IV. Come away: no more of mirth Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth, And shall fall again to ground. V. Come away for Life and Thought But in a city glorious A great and distant city—have bought A mansion incorruptible. Would they could have stayed with us! THE DYING SWAN. I. THE plain was grassy, wild and bare, Wide, wild, and open to the air, Which had built up everywhere An under-roof of doleful gray. And loudly did lament. And took the reed-tops as it went. II. Some blue peaks in the distance rose, And white against the cold-white sky, Shone out their crowning snows. One willow over the river wept, And shook the wave as the wind did sigh; Above in the wind was the swallow, Chasing itself at its own wild will, And far thro' the marish green and still The tangled water-courses slept, Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow. III. The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds, And the willow-branches hoar and dank, And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds, And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank, And the silvery marish-flowers that throng The desolate creeks and pools among, Were flooded over with eddying song. A DIRGE. I. Now is done thy long day's work; Shadows of the silver birk Sweep the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave. Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise, And all about him roll'd his lustrous eyes; When, turning round a cassia, full in view, Death, walking all alone beneath a yew, And talking to himself, first met his sight: 'You must begone,' said Death, 'these walks are mine.' Love wept and spread his sheeny vans for flight; Yet ere he parted said, 'This hour is thine: Thou art the shadow of life, and as the tree Stands in the sun and shadows all beneath, So in the light of great eternity Life eminent creates the shade of death; The shadow passeth when the tree shall fall, But I shall reign for ever over all.’ с |