The level lake with diamond-plots Of dark and bright. A lovely time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Dark-blue the deep sphere overhead, In cool soft turf upon the bank, Of good Haroun Alraschid. Thence thro' the garden I was drawn- And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round With dazed vision unawares After the fashion of the time, The fourscore windows all alight In inmost Bagdat, till there seem'd Of night new-risen, that marvellous time, Then stole I up, and trancedly Six columns, three on either side, With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold. Sole star of all that place and time, 1. THOU who stealest fire, From the fountains of the past, To glorify the present; oh, haste, Visit my low desire! Strengthen me, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory. 2. Come not as thou camest of late, Flinging the gloom of yesternight On the white day; but robed in soften'd light Whilome thou camest with the morning mist, Stays on her floating locks the lovely freight The black earth with brilliance rare. 3. Whilome thou camest with the morning mist, And with the evening cloud, Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast, (Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind Never grow sere, When rooted in the garden of the mind, Because they are the earliest of the year). In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest Though deep not fathomless, Was cloven with the million stars which tremble O'er the deep mind of dauntless infancy. Small thought was there of life's distress; For sure she deem'd no mist of earth could dull O strengthen me, enlighten me! Thou dewy dawn of memory. Thou wert not nursed by the waterfall Which ever sounds and shines A pillar of white light upon the wall Of purple cliffs, aloof descried: Come from the woods that belt the gray hillside, The seven elms, the poplars four That stand beside my father's door, And chiefly from the brook that loves Pour round mine ears the livelong bleat When the first matin-song hath waken'd loud 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. Place it, where sweetest sunlight falls For the discovery And newness of thine art so pleased thee, On the prime labor of thine early days: No matter what the sketch might be; Whether the high field on the bushless Pike, 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; Or a garden bower'd close With plaited alleys of the trailing rose, Long alleys falling down to twilight grots, 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! O strengthen me, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory. SONG. 1. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours 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; 2. The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad sunflower ADELINE. MYSTERY of mysteries, Faintly smiling Adeline, Scarce of earth nor all divine, Nor unhappy, nor at rest, But beyond expression fair With thy floating flaxen hair; Thy rose-lips and full blue eyes Take the heart from out my breast. Wherefore those dim looks of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline? 2. Whence that aery bloom of thine, And a rose-bush leans upon, Ere the placid lips be cold? Wherefore those faint smiles of thine, Spiritual Adeline? 3. What hope or fear or joy is thine? For sure thou art not all alone: Hast thou heard the butterflies, With what voice the violet woos Or when little airs arise, How the merry bluebell rings To the mosses underneath? Hast thou look'd upon the breath Wherefore that faint smile of thine, 4. Some honey-converse feeds thy mind, Some spirit of a crimson rose In love with thee forgets to close His curtains, wasting odorous sighs All night long on darkness blind. What aileth thee? whom waitest thou With thy soften'd, shadow'd brow, And those dew-lit eyes of thine. 5. Lovest thou the doleful wind A CHARACTER.-THE POET.-THE POETS MIND. Doth the low-tongued Orient On thy pillow, lowly bent Round thy neck in subtle ring And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill? Hence that look and smile of thine, Spiritual Adeline. A CHARACTER. WITH a half-glance upon the sky And vagrant melodies the winds which bore Them earthward till they lit; Then, like the arrow-seeds of the field flower, The fruitful wit Cleaving, took root, and springing forth anew, Where'er they fell, behold, Like to the mother plant in semblance, grew A flower all gold, And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth, 15 To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth. So many minds did gird their orbs with beams, Tho' one did fling the fire. Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams Of high desire. Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world Like one great garden show'd, And thro' the wreaths of floating dark upcurl'd, Rare sunrise flow'd. And Freedom rear'd in that august sunrise When rites and forms before his burning eyes Melted like snow. There was no blood upon her maiden robes But round about the circles of the globes And in her raiment's hem was traced in flame All evil dreams of power-a sacred name Her words did gather thunder as they ran, So was their meaning to her words. No sword THE POET'S MIND. 1. VEX not thou the poet's mind Vex not thou the poet's mind; For thou canst not fathom it. Clear and bright it should be ever, Flowing like a crystal river; Bright as light, and clear as wind. 2. Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear: Come not here. Into every spicy flower Of he laurel-shrubs that hedge it around. The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer. In your eye there is death, There is frost in your breath Which would blight the plants. Where you stand you cannot hear From the groves within The wild-bird's din. 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 Ever brightening With a low melodious thunder; And the mountain draws it from Heaven above, THE SEA-FAIRIES. SLOW Sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest To little harps of gold; and while they mused, Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea. Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore?. Day and night to the billow the fountain calls; From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells O hither, come hither and furl your sails, 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, Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand; And the rainbow hangs on the poising wave, 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 Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er? Whither away? listen and stay: mariner, mariner fly no more. THE DESERTED HOUSE. 1. LIFE and Thought have gone away Side by side, Leaving door and windows wide. Careless tenants they! 2. All within is dark as night: 3. Close the door, the shutters close, Or thro' the windows we shall see Of the dark deserted house. |