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Four years ago Mr. Sullivan requested me to write a little song-cycle, German fashion, for

him to exercise his art upon.

He had been very successful in setting such old songs as “Orpheus

with his lute,” and I drest up for him, partly in the old style, a puppet whose almost only merit is,

perhaps, that it can dance to Mr. Sullivan's instrument.

I am sorry that my four-year-old puppet

should have to dance at all in the dark shadow of these days; but the music is now completed,

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XI. MARRIAGE MORNING.

Light, so low upon earth,
You send a flash to the sun.
Here is the golden close of love,
All my wooing is done.
O the woods and the meadows,
Woods where we hid from the wet,
Stiles where we stay'd to be kind,
Meadows in which we met!
Light, so low in the vale,
You flash and lighten afar:
For this is the golden morning of love,
And you are his morning star.
Flash, I am coming, I come,
By meadow and stile and wood:
O lighten into my eyes and my heart,
Into my heart and my blood!
Heart, are you great enough
For a love that never tires?
O heart, are you great enough for love?
I have heard of thorns and briers.
Over the thorns and briers,
Over the meadows and stiles,
Over the world to the end of it
Flash for a million miles,

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