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The filter'd tribute of the rough wood

land.

O! hither lead thy feet! Pour round mine ears the livelong bleat [folds, Of the thick-fleeced sheep from wattled Upon the ridged wolds,

When the first matin-song hath waken'd loud

Over the dark dewy earth forlorn,
What time the amber morn

Forth gushes from beneath a low-hung cloud.

5.

Large dowries doth the raptured eye
To the young spirit present
When first she is wed;

And like a bride of old
In triumph led,

With music and sweet showers
Of festal flowers,

Unto the dwelling she must sway. [Memory, Well hast thou done, great artist In setting round thy first experiment With royal frame-work of wrought gold; [essay, Needs must thou dearly love thy first And foremost in thy various gallery Place it, where sweetest sunlight falls

Upon the storied walls;

For the discovery

And newness of thine art so pleased thee, [fairest That all which thou hast drawn of Or boldest since, but lightly weighs With thee unto the love thou bearest The first-born of thy genius. Artistlike,

Ever retiring thou dost gaze

On the prime labor of thine early days: No matter what the sketch might be ; Whether the high field on the bushless pike,

Or even a sand-built ridge

Of heaped hills that mound the sea,
Overblown with murmurs harsh,
Or even a lowly cottage whence we see
Stretch'd wide and wild the waste
enormous marsh,

Where from the frequent bridge,
Like emblems of infinity,

The trenched waters run from sky to sky;

rose,

Or a garden bower'd close
With plaited alleys of the trailing
[grots,
Long alleys falling down to twilight
Or opening upon level plots
Of crowned lilies, standing near
Purple-spiked lavender :
Whither in after life retired
From brawling storms,
From weary wind,

With youthful fancy reinspired,
We may hold converse with all forms
Of the many-sided mind,

And those whom passion hath not blinded,

Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded.
My friend, with you to live alone,
Were how much better than to own
A crown, a sceptre, and a throne!
strengthen me, enlighten me!
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
I faint in this obscurity,

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He spake of beauty: that the dull
Saw no divinity in grass,

Life in dead stones, or spirit in air;
Then looking as 'twere in a glass,
He smooth'd his chin and sleek'd his
hair,

And said the earth was beautiful.

He spake of virtue: not the gods
More purely, when they wish to charm
Pallas and Juno sitting by:
And with a sweeping of the arm,
And a lack-lustre dead-blue eye,
Devolved his rounded periods.

Most delicately hour by hour
He canvass'd human mysteries,
And trod on silk, as if the winds
Blew his own praises in his eyes,
And stood aloof from other minds
In impotence of fancied power.

With lips depress'd as he were meek,
Himself unto himself he sold :
Upon himself himself did feed:
Quiet, dispassionate, and cold,
And other than his form of creed,
With chisell'd features clear and sleek.

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Before him lay: with echoing feet he | There was no blood upon her maiden

threaded

The secretest walks of fame :

robes

Sunn'd by those orient skies:

The viewless arrows of his thoughts But round about the circles of the

were headed

And wing'd with flame,

globes Of her keen eyes

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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
Like sheet lightning,

Ever brightening

With a low melodious thunder; All day and all night it is ever drawn From the brain of the purple mountain

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, [so dull; You never would hear it; your ears are So keep where you are: you are foul with sin; [came in. earth if you

It would shrink to the

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O hither, come hither and furl your sails,

Come hither to me and to me:
Hither, come hither and frolic and play;
Here it is only the mew that wails;
We will sing to you all the day:
Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,
For here are the blissful downs and
dales,

And merrily, merrily carol the gales, And the spangle dances in bight and bay,

And the rainbow forms and flies on the land

Over the islands free;

And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand;

Hither, come hither and see;

And the rainbow hangs on the poising

wave,

And sweet is the color of cove and cave,
And sweet shall your welcome be:
O hither, come hither, and be our lords
For merry brides are we :

We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words:

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
With pleasure and love and jubilee ;
O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
When the sharp clear twang of the
golden chords

Runs up the ridged sea.

Who can light on as happy a shore
All the world o'er, all the world o'er?
Whither away? listen and stay: mar-
iner, mariner, fly no more.

THE DESERTED HOUSE.

I.

LIFE and Thought have gone away
Side by side,

Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they!

2.

All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.

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