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THE POET'S SONG.

The passed by the town, and out of the street,

HE rain had fallen, the Poet arose,

He passed by the town, and out of the street, A light wind blew from the gates of the sun,

And waves of shadow went over the wheat, And he sat him down in a lonely place,

And chanted a melody loud and sweet, That made the wild-swan pause in her cloud,

And the lark drop down at his feet.

The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee,

The snake slipt under a spray,
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak

And stared, with his foot on the prey,
And the nightingale thought, “I have sung many songs,

But never a one so gay,
For he sings of what the world will be

When the years have died away.”

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LILIAN.

23

She 'll not tell me if she love me,

Cruel little Lilian.

When my passion seeks

Pleasance in love-sighs,
She, looking through and through me
Thoroughly to undo me,

Smiling, never speaks :
So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple,
From beneath her gathered wimple

Glancing with black-beaded eyes,
Till the lightning laughters dimple

The baby-roses in her cheeks;
Then away she flies.

Prithee weep, May Lilian !

Gayety without eclipse Wearieth me, May Lilian : Through my very heart it thrilleth

When from crimson-threaded lips Silver-treble laughter trilleth :

Prithee weep, May Lilian.

Praying all I can,
If prayers will not hush thee,

Airy Lilian,
Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,

Fairy Lilian.

THE OWL.

WHEN

THEN cats run home and light is come,

And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,

And the whirring sail goes round,
And the whirring sail goes round;

Alone and warming his five wits
The white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,

And rarely smells the new.mown hay, And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch

Twice or thrice his roundelay,
Twice or thrice his roundelay;

Alone and warming his five wits
The white owl in the belfry sits.

TO THE OWL.

25

TO THE SAME.

TV tuwhits

are Julled, I wot

'HY tuwhits are lulled, I wot,

Thy tuwhoos of yesternight,
Which upon the dark afloat,

So took echo with delight,
So took echo with delight,

That her voice, untuneful grown,
Wears all day a fainter tone.

I would mock thy chant anew ;

But I cannot mimic it;
Not a whit of thy tuwhoo,

Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,
Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,

With a lengthened loud halloo,
Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo-o-o.

A SPIRIT HAUNTS.

I.

A

Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers :

To himself he talks ; For at eventide, listening earnestly, At his work you may hear him sob and sigh

In the walks ;

Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks Of the mouldering flowers :

Heavily hangs the broad sunflower

Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock,

Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

II.

The air is damp, and hushed, and close,
As a sick man's room when he taketh repose

An hour before death;
My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves
At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves,

And the breath

Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose.

Heavily hangs the broad sunflower

Over its grave i’ the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock,

Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

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