So blunt in memory, so old at heart, At such a distance from his youth in grief,

That, having seen, forgot? The commor. mouth

So gross to express delight, in praise of her

Grew oratory. Such a lord is Love,
And Beauty such a mistress of the
world.
[Love,
And if I said that Fancy, led by
Would play with flying forms and im-
ages,

Yet this is also true, that, long before
I look'd upon her, when I heard her

(For those old Mays had thrice the life of these,) The steer forgot

Rings in mine ears.

to graze,

And, where the hedge-row cuts the pathway, stood,

Leaning his horns into the neighbor field,

And lowing to his fellows. From the woods

Came voices of the well-contented doves.

The lark could scarce get out his notes for joy

But shook his song together as he near'd His happy home, the ground. To left and right, [bills;

The cuckoo told his name to all the The mellow ouzel fluted in the elm ; The redcap whistled; and the nightingale [day.

Sang loud, as tho' he were the bird of And Eustace turn'd, and smiling said

to me,

"Hear how the bushes echo! by my life These birds have joyful thoughts. Think you they sing

Like poets, from the vanity of song? Or have they any sense of why they sing?

And would they praise the heavens for what they have?" And I made answer, "Were there nothing else

For which to praise the heavens but only love,

That only love were cause enough for praise."

Lightly he laugh'd, as one that read my thought,

And on we went; but ere an hour had pass'd, [North; We reach'd a meadow slanting to the Down which a well-worn pathway courted us

To one green wicket in a privet hedge; This, yielding, gave into a grassy walk Thro' crowded lilac-ambush trimly pruned;

And one warm gust, full-fed with perfume, blew

Beyond us, as we enter'd in the cool.

That graced the giving-such a noise of life [voice Swarm'd in the golden present, such a Call'd to me from the years to come, and such

A length of bright horizon rimm'd the dark.

And all that night I heard the watchmen peal

The sliding season: all that night I heard

The heavy clocks knolling the drowsy hours.

The drowsy hours, dispensers of all good,

O'er the mutc city stole with folded wings,

Distilling odors on me as they went To greet their fairer sisters of the East. Love at first sight, first-born, and heir to all,

Made this night thus. Henceforward squall nor storm

Could keep me from that Eden where she dwelt.

Light pretexts drew me: sometimes a Dutch love

For tulips; then for roses, moss or musk,

To grace my city-rooms: or fruits

and cream

Served in the weeping elm; and more and more [cheek; A word could bring the color to my A thought would fill my eyes_with happy dew; [each Love trebled life within me, and with The year increased

The daughters of the year, One after one, thro' that still garden pass'd:

Each garlanded with her peculiar flower Danced into light, and died into the shade;

And each in passing touch'd with some new grace

Or seem'd to touch her, so that day by day,

Like one that never can be wholly known,

Her beauty grew; till Autumn brought an hour

By its own energy fulfill'd itself, Merged in completion? Would you learn at full [grades How passion rose thro' circumstantial Beyond all grades develop'd? and indeed

I had not stayed so long to tell you all, But while I mused came Memory with sad eyes,

Holding the folded annals of my youth; And while I mused, Love with knit brows went by,

And with a flying finger swept my lips, Igiven And spake, "Be wise: not easily forAre those, who, setting wide the doors [heart, The secret bridal chambers of the Let in the day." Here, then, my words have end.

that bar

And in her bosom bore the baby, Sleep But this whole hour your eyes have been intent

On that veil'd picture-veil'd for what it holds

May not be dwelt on by the common day.

This prelude has prepared thee. Raise thy soul;

Make thine heart ready with thine eyes;

the time

Is come to rise the veil.

Behold her there, As I beheld her ere she knew my heart, My first, last love; the idol of my youth,

The darling of my manhood, and, alas! Now the most blessed memory of mine age.

And she his niece. He often look'd at And often thought "I'll make them man and wife."

Now Dora felt her uncle's will in all, And yearn'd towards William; but the youth, because [house, He had been always with her in the Thought not of Dora.

Then there came a day When Allan call'd his son, and said, "My son:

I married late, but I would wish to see My grandchild on my knees before I die:

And I have set my heart upon a match. Now therefore look to Dora; she is

well

To look to; thrifty too beyond her age. She is my brother's daughter: he and I Had once hard words, and parted, and he died

In foreign lands; but for his sake I bred His daughter Dora; take her for your wife;

For I have wish'd this marriage, night and day,

And sent it them by stealth, nor did they know

Who sent it; till at last a fever seized On William, and in harvest time he died.

Then Dora went to Mary. Mary sat And look'd with tears upon her boy, and thought

Hard things of Dora. Dora came and said:

"I have obeyed my uncle until now, And I have sinn'd, for it was all thro'

me

This evil came on William at the first. But, Mary, for the sake of him that's gone, [chose,

And for your sake, the woman that he And for this orphan, I am come to you: You know there has not been for these five years

So full a harvest: let me take the boy, And I will set him in my uncle's eye Among the wheat; that when his heart is glad

Of the full harvest, he may see the boy, And bless him for the sake of him that's gone."

And Dora took the child, and went her way

Across the wheat, and sat upon a mound [grew.

That was unsown, where many poppies Far off the farmer came into the field And spied her not; for none of all his [child; Dare tell him Dora waited with the And Dora would have risen and gone to him,

men

But her heart fail'd her; and the reapers reap'd,

And the sun fell, and all the land was dark.

But when the morrow came, she rose and took

The child once more, and sat upon the mound;

And made a little wreath of all the flowers

That grew about, and tied it round his hat

To make him pleasing in her uncle's

eye.