O GO not yet, my love! The night is dark and vast; The white moon is hid in her heaven above, And the waves climb high and fast. O, kiss me, kiss me, once again, Lest thy kiss should be the last! O kiss me ere we part; Grow closer to my heart! My heart is warmer surely than the. bosom of the main. O joy! O bliss of blisses! My heart of hearts art thou. And the loud sea roars below. Thy heart beats through thy rosy Had purified, and chastened, and made limbs, So gladly doth it stir; Thine eye in drops of gladness swims. I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh; Thy locks are dripping balm ; I'll stay thee with my kisses. Will rend thy golden tresses; On the black and moaning sea, Thy voice is sweet and low; That lead into the sea. Or I will follow thee! THE MYSTIC. ANGELS have talked with him, and showed him thrones: Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye, Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn: Ye could not read the marvel in his eye, The still serene abstraction: he hath felt The vanities of after and before; Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart The stern experiences of converse lives, The linked woes of many a fiery change free. Always there stood before him, night and day, Of wayward vary-colored circumstance The imperishable presences serene, Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound, Dim shadows but unwaning presences Fourfaced to four corners of the sky; And yet again, three shadows, fronting one, One forward, one respectant, three but one; And yet again, again and evermore, Awful with most invariable eyes. Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all Keen knowledges of low-embowed eld) Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud Which droops low-hung on either gate of life, Both birth and death: he in the centre fixt, Saw far on each side through the grated gates Most pale and clear and lovely dis tances. He often lying broad awake, and yet Remaining from the body, and apart In intellect and power and will, hath heard Time flowing in the middle of the night, And all things creeping to a day of doom. How could ye know him? Ye were yet within The narrower circle: he had wellnigh reached The last, which with a region of white flame, Pure without heat, into a larger air Upburning, and an ether of black blue, Investeth and ingirds all other lives. THE GRASSHOPPER. I. VOICE of the summer wind, Joy of the summer plain, Life of the summer hours, Carol clearly, bound along. No Tithon thou as poets feign (Shame fall 'em, they are deaf and blind), But an insect lithe and strong, Bowing the seeded summer flowers. Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel, Vaulting on thine airy feet. Clap thy shielded sides and carol, Carol clearly, chirrup sweet. Thou art a mailed warrier in youth and strength complete Armed cap-a-pie Full fair to see; Unknowing fear, Undreading loss, A gallant cavalier, Sans peur et sans reproche, In sunlight and in shadow, The Bayard of the meadow. II. I would dwell with thee, Thou hast no sorrow or tears, Soon thy joy is over, And slumbers in the clover. What hast thou to do with evil In thine hour of love and revel, In thy heat of summer pride, What hast thou to do with evil, Lighting on the golden blooms? LOVE, PRIDE, AND FORGETFULNESS. ERE yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, Love labored honey busily. I was the hive, and Love the bee, The cruel vapors went through all, Did change them into gall; Awhile she scarcely lived at all. CHORUS. IN AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA, WRIT- THE varied earth, the moving heaven, The subtle life, the countless forms Of man and beast are full of strange Astonishment change. THE TEARS OF HEAVEN. and boundless HEAVEN weeps above the earth all night till morn, In darkness weeps as all ashamed to weep, Because the earth hath made her state forlorn With self-wrought evil of unnumbered years, And doth the fruit of her dishonor |