So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am past away. And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not to fret; O look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow; O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done And what is life, that we should moan? why make we such ado? Forever and forever, all in a blessed home And there to wait a little while till you and Effie come— In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence; ripen, fall and cease: Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. 5. Sore task to hearts worn out with many [pilot-stars. wars And eyes grown dim with gazing on the But, propt on beds of amaranth and How sweet it were, hearing the down- With half-dropt eyelids still, With half-shut eyes ever to seem To dream and dream, like yonder 6. Dear is the memory of our wedded Is there confusion in the little isle? Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hillTo hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro' the thicktwined vine[falling To watch the emerald-color'd water Thro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine! [ling brine, Only to hear and see the far-off sparkOnly to hear were sweet, stretch'd out beneath the pine. 8. The Lotos blooms below the barren peak: [creek: The Lotos blows by every winding All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone: Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown. We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, [reclined In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. [bolts are hurl'd For they lie beside their nectar, and the Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curl'd Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world: Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earth quake, roaring deeps and fiery sands, Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho' the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they suffer-some, 'tis whispered-down in hell Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell, [asphodel. Resting weary limbs at last on beds of Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore Than labor in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar; [wander more. O rest ye, brother mariners, we will not A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. I READ, before my eyelids dropt their shade, [long ago "The Legend of Good Women," Sung by the morning star of song, who made His music heard below; Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath [that fill Preluded those melodious bursts The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still. art And, for a while, the knowledge of his [strong gales I Held me above the subject, as Hold swollen clouds from raining, tho' my heart, Brimful of those wild tales, Charged both mine eyes with tears. In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth, Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand The downward slope to death. Torn from the fringe of spray. started once, or seem'd to start in pain, [strove to speak, Resolved on noble things, and As when a great thought strikes along the brain, And flushes all the cheek. And once my arm was lifted to hew down A cavalier from off his saddle-bow, That bore a lady from a leaguer'd town; And then, I know not how, All those sharp fancies by down lapsing thought [and did creep Stream'd onward, lost their edges, And from within me a clear under-tone Thrill'd thro' mine ears in that unblissful clime, Roll'd on each other,rounded, smooth'd, "Pass freely thro': the wood is all and brought Into the gulfs of sleep. At last methought that I had wandered far In an old wood: fresh-wash'd in coolest dew, At [star A The maiden splendors of the morning Shook in the steadfast blue. Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and lean [neath Upon the dusky brushwood underTheir broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green, New from its silken sheath. The dim red morn had died, her journey done, And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain, [sun, Half-fall'n across the threshold of the Never to rise again. There was no motion in the dumb dead air, thine own, Until the end of time." length I saw a lady within call, Stiller than chisell'd marble, standing there; daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. Her loveliness with shame and with surprise Froze my swift speech; she turning on my face The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes, Spoke slowly in her place. "I had great beauty; ask thou not my [rill; Not any song of bird or sound of I Gross darkness of the inner sepulchre Is not so deadly still As that wide forest. Growths of jas[to tree, Their humid arms festooning tree And at the root thro' lush green grasses burn'd mine turn'd The red anemone. I knew the flowers, I knew the leaves, I knew [dawn The tearful glimmer of the languid On those long, rank, dark woodwalks drench'd in dew, Leading from lawn to lawn. The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame [been The times when I remember to have Joyful and free from blame.. name: No one can be more wise than destiny. [I came Many drew swords and died. Where'er I brought calamity.” "No marvel, sovereign lady: in fair field [died." Myself for such a face had boldly answer'd free; and turning I appeal'd But To one that stood beside. she, with sick and scornful looks averse, To her full height her stately stature draws; [with a curse: "My youth," she said, was blasted This woman was the cause. 66 "I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears: My father held his hand upon his face: I, blinded with my tears, "Still strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs As in a dream. Dimly I could descry [wolfish eyes, The stern black-bearded kings with Waiting to see me die. |