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Class, PR 4 40 3. 
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 PRESENTED BY 
 
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 %0 A N T I P E, 
 
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 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 D. T. CALHOUN. 
 
 
 PROVOST & CO., 
 36, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. 
 
 1871. 
 
 ~\ 
 
?$** 
 
 cfl 
 
 C< 
 
 2,6 ft* 
 
 GIFT 
 BERTRAM SMITH 
 
 OCT 2 4 1933 
 
 Printed by Watson and Hazell, London and Aylesbury. 
 
CO NT E NTS. 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A maid's may-song ■ . .3 
 
 TO IANTHE . . ... . . .4 
 
 CECILIA TRAPASSATA . . . . . .5 
 
 ODE I. . 7 
 
 THE COQUETTE 8 
 
 DESPAIR . . .IO 
 
 ODE II II 
 
 LEILA'S EYES . .12 
 
 AN INVOCATION TO LOVE. 1 3 
 
 THE LITTLE RIVALS 1 4 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 ODE III 17 
 
 THE LITTLE ROSE 19 
 
 ABSENCE . . . 20 
 
 A SONG TO MY LADY . . . . . .21 
 
 LEILA . 22 
 
 LEILA'S LIPS 23 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 THIRD PART. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE ROSEBUD AND THE DAISY . . . . 2J 
 
 A SUMMER SONG 29 
 
 ODE IV 3 1 
 
 A WINTER SONG • 3 2 
 
 LEILA'S GRACES 33 
 
 ODE V 35 
 
 ILLUSIONS PERDUES 37 
 
 ODE VI 38 
 
 SYMPATHY 4° 
 
 THE VISION OF DEATH 4 1 
 
 TO PSYCHE 6l 
 
 SON^G TO FLORA 63 
 
 ODE VII 65 
 
 TO LEILA -67 
 
 ODE VIII 69 
 
 A MAID'S SORROW 7 1 
 
 FOURTH PART. 
 
 I FUGITIVI 75 
 
 FRAGMENTS 77 
 
 REMEMBRANCE 7$ 
 
 TO FLORA 82 
 
 FIFTH PART. 
 
 ANTIOPE ..87 
 
CONTENTS. V 
 
 SIXTH AND LAST PART. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 naiad's song . . Ill 
 
 LINDOR TO ANTHEA 112 
 
 VARIA.— FABLES. 
 
 THE THREE KINGS . 
 
 
 
 
 113 
 
 THE DEPOSIT 
 
 
 
 
 114 
 
 IN THOSE DAYS 
 
 
 
 
 115 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ASS 
 
 
 
 
 Il6 
 Il8 
 
 
 DESPAIR 
 
 
 
 
 II 9 
 
 "DANTE AT VERONA." 
 
 
 
 
 I20 
 
 SONG 
 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 SONNET . . 
 
 
 
 
 122 
 
 EVENING ..... 
 
 
 
 
 123 
 
 A FRAGMENT 
 
 
 
 
 124 
 
 TO ANTHEA .... 
 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 SONNET 
 
 
 
 
 127 
 
 LEILA 
 
 
 
 
 . 128 
 
 A NYMPH'S SONG . ' . 
 
 
 
 
 . I29 
 
Jmt fart. 
 
A MAID'S MAY-SONG. 
 
 Oh ! my young heart it glows 
 Like the dew-glimmering rose 
 
 In the dawn's pale ray? 
 For the flowers gaily spring 
 And the birds sweetly sing 
 
 Their first songs to May. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Bright lilies charm my eye, 
 And the lark's song on high 
 
 Is sweet to my ear; 
 For I am young and gay 
 And my heart hath its May 
 
 Like the new year. 
 
TO IANTHK* 
 
 i. 
 My soul is as a bower of lilies 
 
 Where thou dost dwell like a fond snowy dove, 
 And my heart all the day like a censor 
 
 Brightly burns with the sweets of thy love. 
 
 ii. 
 
 My memory is as a spring blossom 
 Where thy love like a sunbeam reposes, 
 
 And round thy past smiles play her fancies 
 Like zephyrs that dally o'er roses. 
 
 in. 
 The lilies, like a flock of snowy kine 
 
 Are milked by the bees all the day, 
 Yet thy love is more sweet than the honey 
 
 Borne from their white udders away. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I love thee far more than these roses 
 
 I scatter like stars over thee ; 
 For whilst their bloom dies away with the summer, 
 
 Thy love ever blossoms for me. 
 
 * To be understood as synonymous for " Poesy." 
 
CECILIA TRAPASSATA. 
 
 I know the grove where maidens twine 
 Their sunny locks with flowers 
 
 When gaily flown with love and wine 
 They sigh for happy hours. 
 
 ii. 
 I know where lintwhites tune their throats 
 
 So sweetly to the lyre, 
 The soul that lives upon their notes 
 
 Would in their fall expire. 
 
 in. 
 
 Yet let me fly that flowery grove 
 With its haunts so bright and fair, 
 
 Where I so often seek my love 
 Yet never find her there. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And oh ! let happier hearts rejoice 
 In the sweet songs of the year, 
 
 Since every note recalls a voice 
 That I must never hear. 
 
But let me climb some rugged height 
 
 That mantles o'er the sea, 
 Where wild winds raving day and night 
 
 May hymn a dirge to me. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Or let me seek some weird cave 
 
 Where I may lie and weep 
 Until my tears shall dig my grave 
 
 And death become my sleep. 
 
O D E I. 
 
 Leila saw a blossom shine 
 Like a snowdrop on the vine, 
 And lithe to wear it for a gem 
 She plucked it from the ripening stem. 
 " Pretty fondling," then she said, 
 " Lay thy little snowy head 
 On this bosom, that shall be 
 A cradle henceforth unto thee." 
 " Ah fondly sweet," was the reply, 
 " Upon thy billowy breast to lie ; 
 Yet, love, the bliss were trebly mine 
 If thou hadst left me on the vine, 
 Unheedful of thy luscious rape 
 Till I had seasoned to a grape, 
 For, fairest, then I had been prest 
 To thy sweet lip, and not thy breast 
 
THE COQUETTE. 
 
 Winsome light a summer day 
 Leila tripped the flowery lea, 
 
 Seeking the love of all the gay 
 And bright things she did see. 
 
 ii. 
 
 The crystal heaven that did drip 
 
 A silvery shower, 
 Let fall a dew-drop on her lip, 
 
 Thinking it a flower. 
 
 in. 
 
 And from the sun's resplendent ray 
 Gay moths and golden flies 
 
 Did flit to gambol and to play 
 In the bright beams of her eyes. 
 
9 
 
 IV. 
 
 And, quoth I, looking on her there 
 Whilst tears my eyes did blind, 
 
 " How can a maiden be so fair 
 And yet thus so unkind ? 
 
 " For love now lightly doth she seek 
 
 Over the flowery lea, 
 Yet when, alas ! of love I speak 
 
 She turns and flies from me." 
 
10 
 
 DESPAIR, 
 
 Oh that I were yon dew-drop bright 
 
 Upon the spray, 
 And death the sunbeam in whose light 
 
 It melts away ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 Through dateless cycles death would be 
 
 My cherished mate, 
 Since he so kindly set me free 
 
 From that I hate ; 
 
 in. 
 
 For what the world where others sigh 
 
 Eternal bliss, 
 I'd ask it not, if only I 
 
 Could fly from this. 
 
ODE II. 
 
 Around the silvery goblet twine 
 The lily and the eglantine, 
 And the liquid ruby pour 
 Within until it sparkles o'er. 
 Why ? I mean to pass the night 
 In joyous revel and delight, 
 And in orient balm or hue 
 I know no flowers like these two, 
 Whilst I prize this nectar o'er 
 The snowy tulip's sparkling store 
 Or the honey-dew that drips 
 In kisses from a maiden's lips. 
 
12 
 
 LEILA'S EYES. 
 
 A wieftm^jGttiDid m/ray breast 
 To-poison it should grow, 
 
 When Leil a qpgg with star s more bright ^\aJL 
 
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 And fed it with their golden light 
 Into the flower of love* 
 
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 See, Lilly, even's purple hue 
 
 Is faded on the deepening hours, 
 And all the air is dripping dew 
 
 In starry spangles on the flowers ; 
 Then from the couch where all the day 
 
 Thou hast been listlessly reclining, 
 Arise and hie with me away 
 
 Where brooklets flow and stars are shining, 
 
 ii 
 
 The bee folding his weary wings 
 
 Sleeps till the skylark's merry warning, 
 When from his lair he lightly springs 
 
 To sip the honey dews of morning ; 
 So to the song I sing to thee 
 
 Rise, Lilly, from thy bed of flowers, 
 And hie where thou may'st taste with me 
 
 The dream-like joys of love's sweet hours, 
 
14 
 
 THE LITTLE RIVALS. 
 
 By a glassy brooklet sitting, 
 
 Leila watched a sunny ray 
 Over a lily wavelet flitting 
 
 Like a little bird at play ; 
 And all envious at the pleasure 
 
 That its tiny glances gave, 
 She cast a tearlet as a treasure 
 
 To the happy little wave. 
 
 ii. 
 
 And the little wave a -blending 
 
 With the tearlet as it fell, 
 Said, " Pretty ones, go on contending 
 
 If you love to please me well ; 
 For long I envy daisy-cresses 
 
 Their gay rings of light and dew, 
 And thanks unto your sweet caresses 
 
 I shall soon possess them too." 
 
^muh fart. 
 
17 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 Ah Flora, in the goblet pour 
 
 The rosy-sparkling wine no more, 
 
 And let the maiden lilies sigh 
 
 O'er the bright waters till they die, 
 
 For wine is sweet to quaff alone 
 
 When joyful fancies are our own, 
 
 And lilies only give delight 
 
 When hearts are pure as they are bright. 
 
 And so as neither may beguile 
 
 My lips into a passing smile, 
 
 Thy charms, though winsome as before 
 
 Shall move my heart to love no more ; 
 
 For burning glances, wanton fires, 
 
 Soul-phrenzying dreams and young desires, 
 
 That Passion once like blossoms shed 
 
 Lie withered on my heart and dead. 
 
 But whilst upon thy lap I lie 
 
 Watching the legion stars on high, 
 
 2 
 
x8 
 
 Sing me a plaintive roundelay 
 Of the time my heart was gay, 
 That as my soul doth glide along 
 The wakening glories of thy song 
 The past may seem once more to live 
 In the delight its memories give. 
 
i 9 
 
 THE LITTLE ROSE. 
 
 O'er a mazy streamlet growing, 
 Nodding to the zephyrs blowing, 
 
 A little rose hung like a gem, 
 And glowing, panting to possess it, 
 To enfold and to caress it, 
 
 Leila plucked it from the stem. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Ah ! blushing, modest little flower, 
 To know the bliss of such an hour 
 
 It were sweetness e'en to die ; 
 Thou soon wilt have all Leila's kisses, 
 And in her bosom's soft abysses 
 
 Like a little babe wilt lie ! 
 
ABSENCE ! 
 
 The wakened skylark blithely springs 
 
 O'er the glimmering wake of night, 
 And gaily mounting, sweetly rings 
 
 His wild notes through the blushing light ; 
 Yet oh ! how other ears may greet 
 
 Those wild notes, let them die on mine, 
 For how find other voices sweet 
 
 When I must never list to thine ? 
 
 ii. 
 
 Full sweetly o'er the heather blow 
 
 Spring's fairy cowslips on the air, 
 And brightly on their bosoms glow 
 
 The pearl that morn hath scattered there. 
 Yet what to me the sparkling gem, 
 
 The winsome floweret on the lea, 
 If whilst my eyes are bent on them 
 
 My heart is far away with thee ? 
 
A SONG TO MY LADY. 
 
 Like sapphires through the dewy even 
 
 Gleam the stars along the skies, 
 Yet no star in all the heaven 
 But doth pale before thy eyes. 
 Since I then ne'er 
 May hope to wear 
 Jewels, love, so pure and bright, 
 To the break of day, 
 Sweet, let me play, 
 Like a firefly in their dreamy light. 
 
 The lily, like a snowy blossom, 
 
 Dallies o'er the crystal rill ; 
 Yet lilies o'er thy wavy bosom 
 Dally, love, more snowy still. 
 
 Since I never 
 
 Then may gather 
 Flowers of so gay a bloom,. 
 
 Love, let me sigh 
 
 Away, and die 
 Like a zephyr in their sweet perfume. 
 
22 
 
 LEILA. 
 
 Ah, sweet ! how long shall we sigh 
 In this sad dearth of love, 
 
 Drooping like flowers that die 
 For the bright dews above ? 
 
 II. 
 
 Life's a weed on a bleak shore 
 That comes up at dawn, 
 
 But when the day is o'er 
 ? Tis blasted and gone. 
 
 in. 
 
 Like the bee then before us, 
 To the flower whilst we may, 
 
 Lest when night darkens o'er us 
 It be withered away. 
 
23 
 
 LEILA'S LIPS. 
 
 Oh, were I but the wanton air 
 That o'er the lips of Leila blows, 
 
 I'd banquet on the perfume there 
 Till I grew sweeter than a rose ! 
 
 Yet oh, were I a little bee, 
 
 Those lips I'd love still doubly true, 
 For with the breath they gave to me 
 
 I would have all their honey too. 
 
Vpxb fart. 
 
27 
 
 THE ROSEBUD AND THE DAISY. 
 
 In the dim light of the morn 
 I saw a rosebud on a thorn 
 Sighing through its leafy shell 
 For the dews it loved so well ; 
 But the beams of the rising day- 
 Soon began to peel away 
 Its leaves so blithely, that when I 
 Passed it again at even by, 
 A rose in full- flown beauty there 
 It blew on the moonlit air. 
 
 n. 
 
 By a brooklet's grassy side 
 A little daisy I espied, 
 Calling most sorrowfully 
 On the sunbeams passing by, 
 To uplift the roof-like shade 
 That the weeds o'er it had made. 
 
28 
 
 But no sunbeam far or near 
 Taking pity at its tear, 
 It grew faint and faint, until 
 It fell helpless on the rill, 
 Where pining piteously it lay 
 Till it wept its life away. 
 
 in. 
 
 So when youthful hopes and dreams 
 
 Brighten in love's happy beams, 
 
 All their noblest fancies spring 
 
 Into beauteous blossoming, 
 
 At their season to unclose 
 
 In the glories of the rose ; 
 
 But when glimmering in despair 
 
 Through the dreary ways of care, 
 
 Endlessly and bitterly 
 
 Love's expanding beams they sigh, 
 
 Like the little daisy, they 
 
 Wither soon and die away. 
 
2 9 
 
 A SUMMER SONG. 
 
 Oh come, sweet, to the bower with me, 
 Where love now dreamily reposes, 
 
 And there, sweet, I will make for thee 
 A bed of hyacinths and roses. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Lilies and daffodils shall stand 
 
 Like maids of honour there before thee, 
 And, at the zephyr's light command, 
 
 Shall breathe their sweetest kisses o'er thee ; 
 
 in. 
 
 And blossoms whiter far than snow, 
 Starring the roof of that gay bower, 
 
 Shall dripple down on thee below, 
 Like morning dew-drops on the flower. 
 
3° 
 
 IV. 
 
 And therewith I will mingle, too, 
 Pansies and lilacs without number ; 
 
 And daisies pied and violets blue 
 
 I'll scatter o'er thee whilst thou slumber. 
 
3 1 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 A little sunbeam that did play 
 O'er the bright waters all the day, 
 Warned by a firefly's fitful glow 
 That her hour had come to go, 
 Called her kin to kiss good-night, 
 When all began to weep outright, 
 And, holding to her glistening hem, 
 Begged her not to go from them. 
 " Pretty ripple ts," then said she, 
 " Weep not so, nor pine for me, 
 Since Leila will leave her bower soon, 
 And in the wake of the rising moon, 
 Will come to these bright banks to lave 
 Her tresses in your glassy wave, 
 When you may gather from her eye 
 Light to last you till you die." 
 
32 
 
 A WINTER SONG. 
 
 Oh, love, clear away the bright tear, 
 
 Like a snow-flake now dimming thine eye, 
 
 For the seasons that make up the year 
 Are not like our own when they die : 
 
 ir. 
 
 So, how dark and how lowering the day, 
 The hope in my breast is still bright, 
 
 For winter will soon pass, and May 
 
 Bring back leaves and sweet songs of delight. 
 
33 
 
 LEILA'S GRACES. 
 
 i. 
 
 The golden beam of morning tips 
 Daffodillies sheathed in gold, 
 
 And, as at lovers' meeting lips, 
 Their honey dells unfold. 
 
 ii. 
 
 The skylark, climbing in delight 
 
 The rosy sky above, 
 Weaves round her ambery flakes of light, 
 
 Gay notes of joy and love. 
 
 in. 
 
 And blithely, too, the wakening bee 
 Now spreads his sparkling sails 
 
 To skim day's sapphire-glimmering sea 
 Before the flowery gales. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet summer songs or insect dyes, 
 The brightest flowers that shine, 
 
 How sweet to others' ears and eyes, 
 Have lost their joys for mine : 
 
 v. 
 
 For, since my Leila's charms did blaze 
 
 On me in all their pride, 
 My ravished eyes, alas ! can gaze 
 
 On nothing fair beside ; 
 
 VI. 
 
 And, from the morning I did hear 
 
 Her warble to the spring, 
 No lay, how sweet, can touch my ear 
 
 Than that which she doth sing. 
 
35 
 
 ODE V.* 
 
 Little Zephyrs, bring to me, 
 From wild tare and greenwood tree, 
 The rich incense that the spring 
 Hath sown in their blossoming, 
 That, as idly I recline 
 On the low-pressed eglantine, 
 And feel it mingle dreamily 
 With soul-trancing reverie, 
 My rapt phantasies may seem 
 To play in a rosy steam 
 Of kisses that my angel love 
 Showers on me from above. 
 For my fancy like a sun 
 Shines e'er on my lovely one, 
 Where she mystically dwells 
 'Midst the starry asphodels, 
 
 * In this, as in several other poems, the author has indulged 
 in a few false rhymes, as in his own opinion, when properly- 
 introduced, they improve rather than impair the melody of 
 vejrse. 
 
36 
 
 In the sempiternal spheres, 
 High o'er this sad world of tears ; 
 And so I pray piteously 
 Death may soon come unto me, 
 That from a low worm of earth 
 I may spring into the birth 
 Of some new and lovely thing 
 With fire-glancing eye and wing, 
 And the joyous lot to rove 
 A twin-spirit with my love, 
 Happily, eternally, 
 The pure realms of the sky. 
 
37 
 
 ILLUSIONS PERDUES. 
 
 The hot burning tears fall down from my eyes 
 
 Like flakes of wasting fire, 
 And on my withering cheek youth's flower lies 
 
 As on a funeral pyre. 
 
 ii. 
 
 My soul it is all begrimmed with the soot 
 
 Of baffled hopes that burn, 
 And soon the heart that gave them leaf and root 
 
 Will be their tomb and urn. 
 
38 
 
 ODE VI. 
 
 Love, ere the dewy matin glows 
 The blush will vanish from the rose, 
 The goblet brimming brightly o'er 
 Our lips shall drain unto the core : 
 Yet oh though tarrying years should fly 
 Like breathless hours that hurry by, 
 They ne'er shall steal in their decay 
 One blossom from that heart away 
 In which thy love enshrined doth dwell 
 Like honey in its golden cell. 
 Then wipe away the heavy tear 
 That folds thine eye in shades so drear, 
 For evening stars now crossed in love 
 Shed tears so freely from above, 
 The brimming streams would overflow 
 With the fresh tributes of thy woe ; 
 But whilst I cull from yon green briar 
 Those roses blown like coals of fire, 
 And round the ruby-sparkling wine 
 A sweetly- steaming garland twine, 
 
39 
 
 From thy white bosom draw aside 
 The screen that mantles all its pride, 
 And then o'er all the panting charms 
 Where love doth seek his fatal arms, 
 From beryl flask and philter pour 
 The lucent myrrh and liquid ore 
 Of India's sweetest flowers till 
 You breathe a living daffodil ; 
 For now, sweet, in the glimmering ray 
 That Cynthia sheds upon our way, 
 We hail the signal of the hour 
 That we are wont to seek the bower, 
 Where the ambrosial dew we sip 
 From sparkling bowl and rosy lip, 
 And the e'er winsome roundelay 
 Of zephyrs lithe and waters gay 
 Shall waft our weary senses on 
 Through heavenly oblivion 
 Unto a starry isle that gleams 
 In the chrysolite sea of dreams. 
 
4 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Still let the lily blossoms 
 
 Dally on the stem, 
 In the light of the dew-beams 
 
 Morning showers on them ; 
 I need not seek the summer's bloom 
 
 To deck thy burial, 
 Since the tears my eye in sympathy 
 
 Sheds at thy doom 
 Are the loveliest flowers I may strew 
 
 Upon thy tomb. 
 
 I saw thee in the pomp of lordly power 
 
 But yesterday, 
 And now like an untimely-stricken flower 
 
 Thou art withered away ; 
 Yet a poor sparrow let me linger still 
 
 Upon the limb 
 Where late thy glories like young roses hung ; 
 And if my voice hath not the gladsome trill 
 
 The swallow sung 
 
 So sweetly there, 
 At least I will not fly from it like him 
 
 Now that it is bare. 
 
4i 
 
 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 As the sun of the gay spring-time 
 
 Shone bright o'er my bed of holly, 
 
 I said to my weary spirit, 
 
 " Since we have dwelt long in dreamland 
 
 And the bright elixir found not 
 
 We sought through her weird region, 
 
 Let us take the happy vantage 
 
 Of the sun-beam and the spring-time 
 
 To resume the doleful travel 
 
 That all endlessly we tarried 
 
 In the valley of the shadow." 
 
 So from that soft bed of holly 
 
 I rose with my weary sister, 
 
 And into the golden sunlight — 
 
 Golden sunlight of the springtime — 
 
 We passed like two filmy spectres 
 
 The o'erhasty beam of morning 
 
 Locked out of their home in dreamland. 
 
 And we wandered o'er the meadows, 
 
 Beauteous meadows that did glisten 
 
 With many a blazing hailstone, 
 
 As the gods in high Olympus 
 
42 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 Banqueting on living fire, 
 Cast in kindliness and bounty 
 The crumbs of their fiery banquet 
 To the hungry grass and flowers 
 That the lately barren meadows 
 Now bore to the merry springtime. 
 And as on we journeyed slowly, 
 From the primrose and the daisy 
 And the pansy and the tulip 
 And every nameless blossom 
 Blowing o'er the fairy waters 
 Sprang numberless golden insects, 
 Sparkling through the sunny ether 
 As the little stars would glitter 
 From the bright empyrean riven 
 And with fiery plumes and pinions 
 Set to flutter and to glitter 
 Through the dreamy haze of even. 
 And as from a sky of music 
 Joyous notes upon our senses 
 Fell, as fall the summer dew-drops 
 On the summer's snowy blossoms ; 
 Yet, unlike those grateful blossoms, 
 We gladdened not nor brightened 
 In the sweet notes that the heavens 
 On our dreary senses showered ; 
 For of melody all listless 
 Through the sunshine still we wandered 
 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 43 
 
 To a forest drear and sombre 
 To a drear and sombre forest 
 In the glimmer of the distance, 
 Where the lark or lintwhite never 
 Bore the spirit of their rapture, 
 Nor the silver-winged insects 
 Sparkled 'mid the snowy blossoms, 
 'Mid the snowy blossoms lithesome, 
 In the glory of the springtime. 
 And when unto that sombre, 
 To that drear and sombre forest, 
 I came with my sister-spirit, 
 From the bosom of a shadow 
 Sprang a bright and mystic lady ; 
 Like a meteor from the midnight 
 Sprang that bright and mystic lady, 
 And the shadows of the forest, 
 Of that drear and sombre forest, 
 Into hazy twilight glimmered 
 'Neath the weird and radiant splendour 
 Gleaming round the radiant presence, 
 Round the weird and radiant presence 
 Of that bright and mystic lady. 
 And as with my sister spirit 
 I stood rapt in fear and wonder 
 At the splendour of the vision, 
 Through glimmering haze unto me 
 Came that bright and mystic lady, 
 
44 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 And as the chord of the cithern 
 Warbles into airy music 
 At the sweeping of the finger, 
 From her tongue fell liquid numbers, 
 Numbers soft and sweet as honey, 
 As a- melting into pity 
 She all tenderly did ask me, 
 "Why so young and fair a pilgrim 
 From the bright and sunny meadows 
 Wandered to that sombre forest 
 Where the sunbeams never glistened, 
 Never glistened through the blossoms, 
 Through the blossoms that the branches 
 Bear unto the merry springtime." 
 And I said unto her, " Lady, 
 From the day that sovereign reason 
 Through the portal of my spirit 
 Like to crystal sunshine peering, 
 Nursed into flower-like being 
 Wholesome thoughts and golden fancies, 
 Swarms of cares like greedy insects 
 Prey upon their dainty substance, 
 Killing in the hopeful blossom 
 The sweet fruits of coming beauty ; 
 Therefore, lady, I have wandered, 
 Wandered with my phantom-sister, 
 Through the golden spring of Passion, 
 Over many a sunny meadow 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 45 
 
 In the vale of youth and folly ; 
 And no maiden e ? er in springtime 
 Wove so many beauteous flowers 
 Into garland for her lover 
 As of pleasures I have gathered, 
 Gathered with my phantom-sister, 
 For a solace to our anguish ; 
 Yet all purposelessly, lady, 
 For though like heavenly nectar 
 Are the ruddy drops that sparkle 
 In the reeling cup of pleasure, 
 Far too few are they to sweeten 
 E'en the bitter thoughts that ripple 
 O'er the mighty depths of misery 
 Spreading sealike through the bosom. 
 And so longtime go we seeking 
 For a palace drear and sombre, 
 For a drear and sombre palace, 
 Where the sweet bride of my longing, 
 On a throne of ebon sitting, 
 Calls upon her love to hasten 
 From this drear and joyless valley 
 To the glory and the splendour 
 And the rapture of her nuptial ; 
 For they tell me in her palace 
 I shall no more long to wander, 
 Since I shall find in her kisses 
 That sweet cordial to affliction 
 
46 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 I have sought so long and vainly 
 
 In the ways of light and beauty 
 
 Through the valley of existence ; 
 
 And so, lady, lovely lady, 
 
 Tell me whither, only whither, 
 
 I may find that happy palace, 
 
 And all the love in my bosom 
 
 Will I give thee as a flower 
 
 To regale with honey-perfume 
 
 The faint sweetness of thy fancies, 
 
 When their tender blossoms wither 
 
 In the day of death and sorrow." 
 
 As when zephyrs skim the heaven 
 
 Of the cream-like mists of morning, 
 
 All the ether beams with gladness, 
 
 With the gladness of the sunshine, 
 
 So the visage of that lady 
 
 With the light of rapture glistened, 
 
 Glistened through the shade of pity 
 
 Through the shade of pity melting 
 
 At the words which I had spoken ; 
 
 And unto her bosom panting, 
 
 Panting with the throes of passion, 
 
 She clasped me in eager fervour, 
 
 And ? mid kisses that did shimmer 
 
 Through her words like summer sunbeams 
 
 Through the bright drops of the shower, 
 
 She unfolded all the rapture 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 47 
 
 Thrilling her fond heart to welcome 
 
 The young bridegroom of her longing 
 
 To the revel and the splendour 
 
 And the glory of her nuptial. 
 
 " Oh ! why in my sombre palace 
 
 Did I wander lone and cheerless, 
 
 Like a poor hind seeking pasture 
 
 Through the barren wilds of winter ? 
 
 Why among my tender maidens 
 
 Did I wander like a shadow,. 
 
 Like a dark and misty shadow, 
 
 'Mid the sunbeams of the springtime ? 
 
 Oh ! it was my youthful bridegroom 
 
 Tarried in the sombre valley 
 
 Far from the light and gladness 
 
 Nestling ever in my bosom : 
 
 But now, in my happy palace, 
 
 For all years unto the judgment 
 
 Shall I still in joyous wassail 
 
 The hunger of unfed desires, 
 
 And so make me meet amendment 
 
 For the dole of empty fancies 
 
 Through the chaste days of my longing." 
 
 So she spoke ; and once more kisses 
 
 From her rosy lips a-falling 
 
 Thick as snow-flakes in the winter, 
 
 Soon began to crimson over 
 
 My cheeks, mortal in their pallor, 
 
48 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 With a purple layer of sweetness ; 
 And I know not what of pleasure 
 Came upon me that my senses 
 Melted like light vapours into 
 The sweet radiance of its essence ; 
 But when reason, like the morning, 
 Dawned in glory on my spirit, 
 Still I found me by that lady 
 Where she pointed, dimly smiling, 
 To a tomb before me looming ; 
 " And behold," said she, " the palace, 
 The all-drear and sombre palace 
 Where we are to spend together 
 The sweet honeymoon of ages." 
 And with all my thoughts a-feasting 
 On her words, as bees in summer 
 Feast on drops of lily-nectar, 
 I hastened through the gloomy distance 
 With a step so free and lithesome, 
 That full soon before the palace 
 I stood with my phantom-sister, 
 With my phantom-sister weeping 
 As in bygone days of sorrow. 
 And I said unto her, " Dearest, 
 Wherefore shed these bitter tear-drops 
 At the moment, blessed moment, 
 That the portal of the palace 
 We have sought so long in anguish 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 49 
 
 Opens kindly to our welcome ?" 
 And she said, " Good brother, enter, 
 Enter into this dim palace, 
 Where a beauteous bride awaits thee, 
 To make thee benign atonement 
 For the fretful sighs and crossings 
 Thou hast borne of my impatience 
 In the drear and joyless valley ; 
 Yet oh ! weep not so, nor sorrow, 
 For the day the Great Archangel 
 Crying through the startled heaven 
 Shall call thee, wrapt in nuptial blisses, 
 From this palace to Armaddgeon, 
 Thou shalt find me at this portal, 
 Like one of those starry lilies 
 Ever luminously shining 
 Over Gilead's crystal waters, 
 And entrancing in my glory, 
 Thou shalt breathe me in distraction 
 Through thy lips into thy bosom, 
 That all lucent and transparent 
 Shall grow like a vase of crystal 
 When the sparkling flame at even 
 In its empty womb is litten. 
 And thus linked in happy presence, 
 We shall neither cross the other 
 Through opposite and vain desire 
 In this sombre vault to linger 
 
5° THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 Or to fly away to heaven ; 
 For our hearts shall beat in unison 
 To the joyous notes of angels, 
 As on harps of heavenly rapture 
 They shall sing the Consummation 
 That doth end the night of sorrow 
 And begin the day of glory." 
 Oh ! albeit I loved my sister, 
 And wept at this our primal parting 
 Since the day we met in anguish ; 
 Yet all willing, at her bidding, 
 Through the drear and sombre portal 
 In full joy of heart I hastened 
 With the bright and mystic lady 
 That from the first kiss of phrenzy 
 Had not ceased o' kindly wooing. 
 And as into that dim palace 
 We were come, in winsome accents 
 She did call unto her maidens : 
 And as little sleeping perfumes 
 Answer to the merry greeting 
 That the zephyr sings unto them, 
 Through each gloomy portal gaily 
 Tripped those light and airy maidens 
 At the sweet call of their lady, 
 And around me blithely beating 
 Like the white froth of the billows 
 Round the lonely rock in ocean 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 5 1 
 
 They did sing to me in welcome 
 Songs so gladsome, Orpheus even 
 Might have stilled his lyre to listen. 
 Yet in this gay choir and festal 
 One I marked that did not mingle, 
 But apart stood as in reverie ; 
 And I said unto my lady, 
 " Lady, who might be yon maiden 
 That doth join not in my welcome ? ,J 
 And she said unto me, " Dearest, 
 Well I see thy ravished senses 
 Witness only through thy fancy, 
 For no maiden in my palace 
 But now carols in thy welcome 
 Like a siren when at even 
 On the rueful waters sitting 
 She doth lure the careless pilgrim 
 To the isle of sad repentance ; 
 But come now unto the bower 
 Where still sweeter scenes of pleasure 
 Shall acclaim the love I cherish 
 For my young and happy bridegroom." 
 So she spoke, and with her maidens 
 Hurried through a gloomy portal, 
 Whilst like a kid that doth follow 
 The flock without knowing whither 
 I moved in their happy traces 
 Till I came unto a bower 
 
5 2 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 Where it shone among the lilies 
 Like the mystic star of morning 
 'Mid the white mists of the valleys. 
 And within it there did glitter 
 A bright table sparkling over 
 With many a costly viand, 
 And as a flock of spring sparrows 
 Settle on the furrows snowy 
 With the white flakes of the harvest, 
 So fell we in joyous concert 
 At the bidding of our lady 
 To the dainties of that banquet ; 
 And through many luscious hours 
 Till the daylight dimly flickered 
 Through the trellis of the bower, 
 Rose our songs as if to mingle 
 Their lithe spirits in the sweetness 
 Circling o'er the purple nectar. 
 But when bright and golden fire-flies, 
 Sparkling through the drowsy twilight, 
 Hailed anigh the star of even, 
 Then those tender maidens, blushing 
 With the wine, like mists that colour 
 In the scarlet beams of morning, 
 Rose up from the pleasing banquet, 
 And like merry doves did hasten 
 To their covert in the woodland. 
 Then that bright and weird lady, 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 53 
 
 Folding me into her bosom, 
 Thus in silvery notes did utter — 
 " Oh ! behold at length the hour 
 I have wept so oft in spirit 
 On my widowed bed at even ; 
 Yet, love, as my thoughts were bitter 
 In thine absence, be they gladsome 
 In the rapture of thy presence, 
 For thou art to me more lovely 
 Than all I have known or languished 
 In the fairy realms of fancy, 
 Since from thy lips I may gather 
 Roses that shall never wither 
 In the chill breath of the autumn • 
 Whilst upon thy welcome bosom 
 I may loll in sweeter slumber 
 Than at even on the lilies. 
 Yet, dearest, this blissful slumber 
 Let me leave to hours that weary 
 With the painting of thy kisses, 
 For I leave thee now in waiting 
 Till, bedecked for love and pleasure, 
 I may come to thee in beauty 
 So excelling, that for ever 
 Thou shalt bless the happy moment 
 That, my graces only yearning, 
 Thou didst scorn the loveliest maidens 
 Flowering life's ecstatic valley." 
 
54 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 So she said, and like a meteor 
 
 Vanished through the sombre stillness ; 
 
 But her memory behind her, 
 
 She did leave me as a plaything 
 
 To beguile my lonely hours 
 
 Till, in duty to her promise, 
 
 She should come again unto me. 
 
 And upon a bed of daisies 
 
 Sat I fondling in my fancy 
 
 All the words that she had spoken ; 
 
 But o'er all upon the graces 
 
 She did herald to my pleasure 
 
 I hung with such love and longing, 
 
 That when gliding through the portal 
 
 I beheld her, from those daisies 
 
 Springing, in ecstatic fervour 
 
 I did clasp her to my bosom. 
 
 Yet full brief my joy, for sudden 
 
 Through my veins an icy thrilling 
 
 Shivered, and in fearful wonder 
 
 Looking up, saw not my lady, 
 
 As desired or fondly fancied, 
 
 But the weird and beauteous maiden 
 
 That, apart from all her kindred, 
 
 Joined not in my primal greeting. 
 
 And as when the eye in summer 
 
 O'er the meadow vainly wanders, 
 
 Where to signal wanting flowers, 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 55 
 
 O'er her body I could nowhere 
 
 Turn my vision, but it dallied 
 
 In a peerless waste of beauties. 
 
 And I said unto her, " Maiden, 
 
 If thou be some radiant phantom, 
 
 Like a mist upon my fancy, 
 
 By the light of joy begotten, 
 
 Shine thus ever, that the future 
 
 May not sue of recollection 
 
 Tinsel beams of light and beauty ; 
 
 But if thou in precious being 
 
 Art as now unto my vision 
 
 In the lovely charm of semblance, 
 
 Tell me, maiden, beauteous maiden, 
 
 Why into this sombre palace 
 
 Thou art come from happier regions ; 
 
 For by many trusty tokens 
 
 I confess thou dost not number 
 
 With the vestals of my lady " 
 
 " Thy lady, thine ? But ah, thus ever," 
 She replied, " this sombre demon 
 Into my fair Eden gliding, 
 Robs me of my brightest flowers. 
 Though by the dear life I cherish, 
 Thy love she shall never ravish 
 From its home within my bosom ; 
 For when first I saw thee lolling 
 In the dream of infant slumber, 
 
5 6 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 Passion moved my heart towards thee, 
 And though till that hour unwistful 
 What the scorn of man or favour, 
 Thence I sought in me to garner 
 All the grace of love and beauty, 
 That in the heart's budding season 
 Thou might' st find me not unequal 
 To the sweet grace of thy favour ; 
 So then fly this fearful spectre 
 That* hath lured thee to this palace 
 For a brief and woful dalliance, 
 Since that when she shall have stolen 
 Love's last precious drop of honey 
 From the young heart in thy bosom 
 She will leave thee to her maidens, 
 That to worms unsightly changing, 
 On thy tender flesh shall riot 
 Till thy bones grow lean and barren 
 As the leafless boughs of winter, 
 Whilst in the delight I promise 
 Thou shalt find no guile to waken 
 Thy woes from their present slumber, 
 For when thou art sad in spirit 
 Thou may'st wanton to thy pleasure 
 In these beauties that thy vision 
 Now may value as they tremble 
 Through this light gauze like to jewels 
 Through the dazzling haze of even. 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 57 
 
 First thy lips like bees shall gather 
 
 The sweet falling myrrh and honey 
 
 From the lilies and the roses 
 
 That love's never-dying summer 
 
 Over me in bounty showers, 
 
 Or like a swan thou shalt dally 
 
 'Mid the billows of my bosom, 
 
 As they rock with the heart's zephyrs 
 
 To the music of the number 
 
 That our mingling loves shall carol. 
 
 Believe me, dearest, as a flower 
 
 That all outward fair and lovely 
 
 Shows forth still more precious value 
 
 In nectarine taste and perfume 
 
 When 'tis pressed into the bosom. 
 
 See, my arms are soft and mellow, 
 
 With desires trembling ever 
 
 Like two lilies fanned by zephyrs ; 
 
 Whilst as a hive is my body, 
 
 That overflows with love and pleasunce 
 
 I have garnered there like honey 
 
 From the blossom of those hours 
 
 Thou all bitterly didst tarry 
 
 In the drear and sombre valley. 
 
 Then, love, hasten, lightly hasten 
 
 From this tomb unto the palace, 
 
 To the bright and happy palace 
 
 In the valley of existence, 
 
5& THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 Where the revel of my beauty 
 
 Shall be thy eternal dower." 
 
 And I said unto her, " Maiden, 
 
 Well of olden days thou know'st 
 
 My poor heart a sorry bulwark 
 
 To the fiery charge of passion ; 
 
 Yet as a child flies the bramble 
 
 Where he tears his finger seeking 
 
 The sweet grape or tender blossom, 
 
 I now turn awry of pleasures 
 
 I have never loved or gathered 
 
 But among the thorns of sorrow. 
 
 On thy forehead I see shining 
 
 In bright characters and golden, 
 
 ' Vita Sum,' the faithless maiden 
 
 That in tender youth did guile me 
 
 With so many luscious kisses 
 
 To the drear and joyless valley, 
 
 When into a fury turning 
 
 Thou didst plait a scourge of vipers, 
 
 And whipped me from flowery vistas 
 
 Over wastes of thorn and briars ; 
 
 And when oft with torture fainting 
 
 I did lay me down to perish, 
 
 Baring thy infected bosom, 
 
 And thy withered arms expanding, 
 
 Thou with mocking smiles would'st welcome 
 
THE VISION OF DEATH. 59 
 
 My sad soul to blissful dalliance 
 
 In the pale of light and beauty. 
 
 Yet think not in joyous triumph 
 
 I command those hapless memories 
 
 To the dread seat of thy conscience, 
 
 But to give in proof how endless 
 
 Be thy wiles to woo my spirit 
 
 Ever more unto thy fancy, 
 
 For in the arms of my lady 
 
 With unyielding will I dally 
 
 Till the sounding of the ' Trumpet ' 
 
 For what the woes thou dost threaten 
 
 My love, I shall find them sweeter 
 
 Than all the joys thou canst promise." 
 
 And her bosom wildly heaving, 
 
 And her eye with phrenzy flashing, 
 
 Thus in turn she spoke unto me : 
 
 " Longtime, caitiff, in my palace 
 
 I divined with grateless favour 
 
 Thou didst answer to my bounty ; 
 
 Yet that curse or judgment never 
 
 Might feel the sting of repentance, 
 
 Through the bright lure of this vision 
 
 I have sought in happy measure 
 
 To surprise the guilty treason 
 
 In thy heart suspected only. 
 
 Thus, since thou dost scorn the pleasures 
 
60 THE VISION OF DEATH. 
 
 I all kindly did design thee, 
 Look for solace in the curses 
 That like fiery fangs shall lash thee 
 Even to the bourne of vengeance 
 Through the valley of the shadow." 
 
 
6i 
 
 TO PSYCHE. 
 
 The little stars like glowworms bright 
 Now glimmer through the shades of nighty 
 
 Whilst before our eyes 
 
 Flitting fireflies 
 Guide us like torches to delight. 
 
 it 
 The day hath drawn her weary lid 
 Over the sultry star we chid, 
 
 And now we may 
 
 Trip and play, 
 To all but love and rapture hid. 
 
 4 
 
 Yet I'll not lead thee where the vine 
 Clasps love-like the faint jessamine, 
 
 Nor to the rill 
 
 Whose silvery trill 
 Melts my soul as its voice were thine. 
 
62 
 
 IV. 
 
 Fond hearts that meet and lips that kiss 
 Have made bowers there scenes of bliss 
 
 And gay delight 
 
 Full many a night ; 
 But other joys shall sweeten this. 
 
 The poet's dream is far more sweet 
 Than the lays of brooklets at our feet, 
 
 Or the mingling fire 
 
 Of wild desire 
 In lone and flowery retreat. 
 
 H 
 
 Then to its joy, love, whilst we may, 
 For the night will soon be day, 
 
 And that heavenly dream 
 
 Doth scarcely beam 
 Upon the soul than it dies away. 
 
^ 
 
 SONG TO FLORA. 
 
 The skylark carols on the air 
 The twinkling dews like glowworms shine, 
 Peace, light, and joy are everywhere 
 Save in this aching heart of mine ; 
 And / can grieve ? Could'st thou behold 
 These eyes that ebb and flow for thee, 
 Thou would'st not say my heart was cold, 
 Nor fly thus e'er from love and me. 
 
 ii. 
 
 I am so blest when thou art near, 
 True I am lost to all but bliss, 
 What should my eye do with a tear 
 When on thy lip there hangs a kiss ? 
 Yet, sweet, think not a joyous hour 
 Be in thy beauty all I woo, 
 As I could only love the flower 
 Because it hath a golden hue : 
 
6 4 
 
 III. 
 
 For loves now on my weary sight 
 Shine thick as stars along the skies, 
 Whilst rosy smiles and glances bright 
 lay siege unto my heart and eyes ; 
 Yet by their winsome sweets I rove 
 Unmindful as a careless bee, 
 For 'mong so many flowers of love 
 I miss the one most dear to me. 
 
65 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 As through the new- wakening dawn 
 
 I hied o'er the glassy lawn, 
 
 By a crystal streamlet's side 
 
 A sweet maiden I espied 
 
 Dreaming like a dew-drop bright 
 
 On the flowers she pressed so light. 
 
 Dewy roses showered by 
 
 Blushes of the richest dye, 
 
 Tender violets at my feet 
 
 Breathed forth incense soft and sweet, 
 
 Yet from roses brightly glowing 
 
 And violets so sweetly blowing, 
 
 I turned to her lips that did shine 
 
 Like two lilies dint in wine, a jL^ 
 
 And bendkig-gSntly ebwn to sip ^ VyvcJ^AaU'vw **&•**) 
 
 The bright cordial they did drip, 
 
 Love who artfully had made 
 
 There a tempting ambuscade, 
 
 5 
 
66 
 
 And now waited prim and sly 
 
 Until I came passing by, 
 
 Sprung blithe upward as a bee 
 
 Springs from a breeze-kissed lily, 
 
 And aiming a fire foftj&arkd dart — j^QJVU\ W 
 
 Lodged it in my hapless heart, 
 
 Whence my life-blood from that day 
 
 Slowly, sadly ebbs away. 
 
6 7 
 
 TO LEILA. 
 
 Ah, Leila, if the primrose wear 
 The summer's golden hue, 
 
 It breathes upon the wanton air 
 The summer's fragrance too. 
 
 ii. 
 
 And if the dew-drop on the thorn 
 
 Glow brightly in the ray, 
 It melts like incense on the morn, 
 
 And cools the burning day. 
 
 in. 
 
 Then, sweet, oh why that crimson dye 
 That tints thy cheeks so fair, 
 
 If whilst it tempt the wistful eye 
 It bid the lip forbear ? 
 
68 
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh why that eye so dazzling bright 
 Stars fly from it in shame, 
 
 If whilst we wanton in its light 
 We perish in its flame ? 
 
6 9 
 
 ODE VIII. 
 
 I have lived, sweet, unto now 
 Like a blossom on the bough 
 That the autumn's chilling air 
 Lays else desolate and bare. 
 Fondling friends, like zephyrs gay, 
 Feast on my sweets all the day, 
 Yet in grateless turn deny 
 All for which my heart doth sigh, 
 As my means that go amiss 
 Were the ransom of their bliss. 
 Yet I shall no more lament 
 Goods or love untimely spent, 
 For I feel that misery 
 Hath laid life-long hold on me, 
 Since unfaithful stars design 
 Me a servant of the Nine 
 Who for the very ecstasies 
 That lift low senses to the skies, 
 
7° 
 
 See their bodies, which should be 
 Bowers of felicity, 
 Turned into dank prisons, where, 
 Through the close bars of despair, 
 They may look forth sadly on 
 Beauty's sweetly smiling sun 
 Gladden with its heavenly glow 
 Everything except their woe. 
 
V 
 
 A MAID'S SORROW. 
 
 Ah ! full often I hied in the moon's watery gleam 
 
 To yon cliff o'er the sea, 
 And the joy of my soul was to sit there and dream 
 
 He was dying for me. 
 
 ii. 
 
 And I smiled at his woe when his eye like a flower 
 
 With the heart's dew was dim, 
 But now I seek vainly for his tomb, where one hour 
 
 I may weep over him. 
 
 in. 
 
 For as in joy at his tears my tears I did strew 
 
 O'er the foam of the wave, 
 I would mingle them now like a heavenly dew 
 
 With the grass on his grave. 
 
\ 
 
 gowttig fart. 
 
75 
 
 I FUGITIVI * 
 
 On a day, in merry purpose, 
 I resolved to write the antics 
 Of a frolic wight of Venice ; * 
 And with such a zeal I hurried 
 Through the quips of his adventure, 
 That my trifling task was ended 
 Ere I might have sung to Leila 
 In a score of happy lyrics 
 The sweet story of my passion. 
 Then into the world I sent it, 
 And " so be it," answered only 
 To forewarned and righteous ruin, 
 For I knew it a rank fancy 
 Of o'er-hasty growth and blossom. 
 But unduly mighty Nunez, f 
 Didst thou meet with equal judgment, 
 
 * A one-canto heroi-comic poem in " Ottava rima" which, 
 although a mere exercise in versification, the author was so un- 
 wise as to publish some two years since. 
 
 t Vasco de Balboa. A Tragedy. 
 
7 6 
 
 For albeit in vain impatience 
 I did launch thee ere thy season 
 Into the deep sea of venture, 
 Thou dost treasure stores of jewels 
 In their value all excelling, 
 Since old Chios or sweet Avon ! 
 
77 
 
 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 But man hath in blood 
 
 Washed his hands as in water, 
 Whilst his drink is the flood 
 
 He hath sweetened with slaughter ; 
 The clouds that have risen 
 
 From the strife on the plain 
 Return back from heaven 
 
 In hot drops of red rain 
 Whilst valleys and hills glisten 
 
 With their strata of slain. 
 
 First the lightning doth shatter 
 
 The oak that it cleaves, 
 Then the wild wind doth scatter 
 
 Afar its dead leaves ; 
 Oh why to fate are our years 
 
 Bound like leaves to that tree, 
 That we must bear with her fears 
 
 In every threat and decree, 
 And yet have sorrows and tears 
 
 For our lot when set free ? 
 
78 
 
 REMEMBRANCE, 
 
 (a fragment.) 
 
 — — " And by the silver waters rose a bower 
 
 With minarets of myrtle \ there the gales 
 
 Unload the stores they gather from the spring 
 
 Between the hours that Aurora tints 
 
 The grey meridian and evening stars 
 
 Empearl the lilies ; and as their soft breath 
 
 Involves the senses, on the vacant ear 
 
 Steal the light echoes of many a song 
 
 Ecstatic, that the grateful woodland choir 
 
 Sing to the wanderer honouring their green dells. 
 
 "And here," I murmured, " in this beauteous bower, 
 
 Let me repose, until my weary strength 
 
 Renew, and I with lighter soul may strive 
 
 To find my lost way through this mazy wood." 
 
 Saying, towards that flowery haunt I moved 
 
 With step so forward I had soon passed o'er 
 
 The portal, when as some malignant power 
 
 Had wedged my firm feet in the solid earth, 
 
REMEMBRANCE. 79 
 
 I suddenly stood motionless and stiff, 
 With every active pulse and noble sense 
 Bound sweetly captive to my ravished eyes ; 
 For upward wildly from the nestling sward, 
 At my encounter, like a lintwhite sprang 
 A maid so peerless that I well might dream 
 Myself amid the fairy days of old, 
 Where by enchanted grove or lily stream 
 The qye of mortals might undazzled view 
 The^glanes of heaven ; and around the bow6r 
 In hasty terror, like a tender roe 
 Seeking vain egress through the trellised snare 
 She hurried ; when, composing her alarm, 
 I drew close to her, and thus gently spoke : 
 " O think not, lovely one, in fell design 
 I break thus on the charm of thy repose, 
 Since chance alone led me into this grove 
 Where now bewildered I seek vainly, through 
 Many a tiresome tributary path, 
 The highway to the village whence I come. 
 If I may know thee then by this same staff 
 For mistress of yon snowy flock of sheep, 
 With thy experience well may'st thou correct 
 The errors of my way, and so approve 
 In my departure, peace of soul once more." 
 As the young rose bends to the swaying breeze, 
 Her head gracefully at my words inclined, 
 And when from the bright heaven of her cheek 
 
80 REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 The first discolouring cloud of maiden shame 
 Dissolved, thus amiably she made reply : 
 " Yea, seigneur, well in truth I know this wood, 
 Yet that from here I can but ill design 
 A certain path through issues so confused 
 And labyrinthine, I myself will be 
 Thy guide to lead thee forth, if so thou wilt." 
 Saying, unto a bough she hooked her staff, 
 And pressing through the fragrant portal turned 
 Half-face towards me, and in mellow tone 
 Bade me to follow ; " Yea, sweet, unto death," 
 I sought to murmur, but the loving words 
 Swift-mounting fear surprised upon my lips, 
 Where in confused and blasted utterance 
 They hung fluttering like to withered leaves 
 On autumn branches ; so I bowed assent 
 For all compliance to her gracious will, 
 And followed where she led me, by a way 
 Through groves of laurel : and from time to time 
 Some thorny reed occurring, I did mark 
 Her caution, lest recoiling it should smite 
 With woful spring my undefended cheek. 
 Then in my spirit I did bless her as 
 Of gentle heart ; for we may ever know 
 The true soul by those little deeds of love 
 That it puts forth unconsciously like flowers. 
 And therefore taking of her silent fear 
 Bounteous occasion, with attentive eye 
 
REMEMBRANCE. 8 1 
 
 I now sought to explore at vantage all 
 
 The mysteries that adorned her precious form. 
 
 First I admired her locks that richly fell 
 
 In sapphire clusters, then the mellow charms 
 
 That o'er her snowy neck and bosom shone 
 
 Like lily blossoms ; and in such delight 
 
 The beauteous vision did involve my soul 
 
 And fancy, that soon faultless to subdue 
 
 Intemperate yearning, to my thrilling heart 
 
 I clasped her trembling, whilst upon her cheeks 
 
 My kisses showered like crystalline dews 
 
 On beds of roses. She did cry me " nay." 
 
 And strove for freedom, only moving so 
 
 Me, fearful to part with so much delight, 
 
 To more passionate hold, and I may not say 
 
 Whither in the wild phrenzy of my flame 
 
 Love had compelled me, but that from the copse 
 
 A shepherd issuing, called aloud to her 
 
 Reproachful, when I loosed my burning hold, 
 
 And slow retiring like an angry wolf, 
 
 Cast malign glances at the ruthless hind 
 
 That drove me from so sweet a prey of love." 
 
82 
 
 TO FLORA. 
 
 When spring-time showered blossoms bright 
 
 As thick as stars on every tree 
 How gaily in the morning's light 
 
 We tripped along the dewy lea, 
 Singing the songs the lark had sung 
 
 As he rose blithely o'er the wheat, 
 And gathering daisies where they sprung 
 
 In snowy dalliance at our feet. 
 
 n. 
 
 How lightly too when lips of flame 
 
 Had drained the flowers of all their wine 
 We followed lintwhites till we came 
 
 To a myrrh-like bower of eglantine, 
 And breathing spices that the air 
 
 Stole from the balmy dells before us, 
 Sank in delightful slumber there 
 
 To the sweet notes of music o'er us. 
 
33 
 
 in. 
 And how sweet at the close of day 
 
 When clouds seemed all on fire above 
 To wander hand in hand away 
 
 From that bright haunt of youth and love, 
 And by a streamlet's crystal maze 
 
 To watch the wake of the setting sun 
 Till through the even's purple haze 
 
 The small stars peeped forth one by one. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But now where lintwhites sang their hymns 
 
 The fitful blast of winter moans, 
 And leaves drop from their withered limbs 
 
 Like flesh that falls from dead men's bones, 
 And we as thriftless bees no more 
 
 Shall steal the sweets of sunny hours, 
 Nor race the swallow's shadow o'er 
 
 Glassy seas of light and flowers, 
 v. 
 But still, love, o y er the silvery isles 
 
 That shine like stars through Scio's clime 
 Spring basks in all the rosy smiles 
 
 That mark the glory of her prime, 
 For ever there we may behold 
 
 Bees sparkle o'er the lily's cell, 
 
 And morning weave her web of gold 
 
 Around the flowers we love so well. 
 * * * * 
 
Jifi| |p art 
 
87 
 
 ANTIOPE. 
 
 Beneath a sycomore tree 
 
 I lie down to-night 
 Whilst the dews fall on me 
 
 Like to crystals of light. 
 
 ii. 
 Yet though one be for each star 
 
 That shines overhead, 
 They are outnumbered far 
 
 By the tears that I shed. 
 
 II. 
 i. 
 
 The hot stream that gushes 
 From my eyes' scalding flood, 
 
 Burning through my cheeks' blushes, 
 Mingles fire with their blood. 
 
88 ANTIOPE. 
 
 II. 
 
 For my words to the maiden, 
 On the heart's echoes borne, 
 
 Come back to me laden 
 With the freight of her scorn. 
 
 III. 
 
 Even, long-expected even 
 Hath but newly come from heaven, 
 Bringing peace to everything 
 Save my rueful sorrowing. 
 
 Ah ! the heart in my bosom 
 Like a disconsolate blossom 
 Pines away and dies 
 For the light of her eyes, 
 For the light of her crystalline eyes. 
 
 Dost thou know 
 Where my true love lies? 
 
 On a bed of lilies 
 In a^land where violets grow; 
 
 Ask no more — 
 For more thou must not know ! 
 
ANTIOPE. 89 
 
 IV. 
 
 When I first beheld my love 
 
 Sleeping in the silver grove, 
 
 I did raise the filmy lid 
 
 That her secret bosom hid, 
 
 And then murmured, " Springtime ne'er 
 
 Bore flowers so bright and fair 
 
 As the hyacinths that blow 
 
 O'er this panting lapse of snow." 
 
 When morn lifts her fleecy veil 
 
 From shorn hill and flowery dale, 
 
 The lark rising on the air 
 
 Sings so blithe and sweetly there 
 
 Antiopa mastered quite 
 
 With the soul of his delight 
 
 Bends her white knee down upon 
 
 Primrose and dandelion, 
 
 And with lips like warbling springs 
 
 Humbly prays for silvery wings 
 
 That through morning's wastes of blue 
 
 She may fly and carol too. 
 
 Guileless as the mist that plays 
 
 O'er the brooklet's glassy maze 
 
90 ANTIOPE. 
 
 Dulcet as the breath that blows 
 
 From snow-flower or tuberose 
 
 Are the pleasing words that she 
 
 Wafts in prayer from earth to me. 
 
 But as oft in bitter pain 
 
 I have plead her love in vain, 
 
 So in turn, though with a sigh 
 
 This sweet boon I must deny, 
 
 Since else, she would seek no more 
 
 The sea's shell-enamelled shore 
 
 Or the fairy-haunted groves 
 
 Where with wood-nymphs now she roves, 
 
 But a-soaring far away 
 
 Beyond the bright glimpse of day 
 
 Would hide ever from my sight 
 
 In the starry realms of night. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Bravely I o'erthew the Titans 
 When on mountains piling mountains 
 They sought to scale high Olympus ; 
 How then doth a feeble maiden 
 
 Vanquish him, 
 That foiled in battle mighty giants ? 
 
ANTIOPE. 
 
 When Danae 
 
 Loved me 
 I did not weep nor groan ; 
 
 Ah that I 
 
 Could only die 
 And go where she hath gone ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 i. 
 
 In a silvery car lit by sapphire and star 
 
 I rode o'er the sea of the night, 
 Dividing the grey billowy clouds on my way 
 
 Into furrows of amber and light. 
 
 II. 
 
 And men as they passed on the earth stood aghast 
 At the marvel the heavens did unfold, 
 
 For I seemed to the eye as it turned up on high 
 Like a pillar of jacinth and gold. 
 
 Ah lightly o'er the glassy wold 
 
 I seek the lily dell, 
 For there at last I shall behold 
 
 The maid I love so well. 
 
92 ANTIOPE. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The thrush stilling now his lay 
 To the greenwood flies away 
 Where in his mate's welcome nest 
 He shall sink to happy rest \ 
 But ah ! when I find my love 
 In the mazes of this grove 
 I shall freely taste of bliss 
 Twenty-fold more sweet than his. 
 
 In the morning, sweet, 
 
 Come to me \ 
 In the morning, sweet, 
 
 Woo me. 
 In the morning, sweet, flowers 
 
 Shine with dew ; 
 In the morning, sweet, young hearts 
 
 Love true. 
 
 IX. 
 
 As the orient sky put on 
 The flush livery of dawn, 
 I sought my own Danae 
 Over grassy hill and lea. 
 
ANTIOPE. 93 
 
 I blew the loud horn 
 
 From shining hills, 
 And played the sweet lyre 
 
 O'er flowery rills. 
 
 X. 
 
 Full often, sweet, at fall of night 
 
 I've warbled in thy ear 
 Those songs of beauty and delight 
 
 That now thou wilt not hear. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Ah ! love wert thou slumbering in far distant bowers 
 
 To the light -mingling carol of zephyr and rill, 
 That thou heard'st not the lyre as it breathed o ? er the 
 flowers, 
 Nor the air-thrilling trumpet as it spoke from the 
 hill? 
 
 i. 
 
 No, no, she was singing 
 
 By waters running clear 
 A rondel to the flowers 
 The young and blushing hours 
 
 Newly bore to the year. 
 
94 ANTIOPE. 
 
 II. 
 
 How then with her fancies 
 All involved in that lay, 
 Could she hear the sad sighing 
 Of those that were dying 
 For her far away ? 
 
 XII. 
 
 i. 
 Here the bounteous summer flings 
 Crystal beads and diamond rings 
 To all flowers that delight 
 O'er green fields or waters bright. 
 
 ii. 
 So now wanton as I may 
 Through the dazzling wake of day, 
 Everywhere I seem to see 
 The bright eyes of Danae 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Truly, roses glisten bright 
 In the summer's golden light, 
 Yet when kneeling as in prayer 
 I would breathe the love I bear 
 
ANTIOPE. 95 
 
 Unto them, they grow cold and deaf 
 To the story of my grief. 
 Yet I scarcely sigh above 
 The fond name of her I love 
 Than in wild delight she springs 
 From her primrose bed, and sings 
 Notes of such sweet welcome, I 
 Almost with their echoes die. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Coming a crystal flood 
 In the bosom of the wood 
 A sweet naiad I espied 
 Bathing in its limpid tide, 
 And asking of Danae, 
 Thus she made reply to me 
 " As thy love at break of day 
 Tripped her light and airy way 
 To yon bower of pleasunce, one 
 That did issue from the sun 
 Rapt her from my dazzled eyes 
 To his home within the skies." 
 
 XV. 
 
 i. 
 
 Vanish despair, 
 Sorrow and care, 
 Fancies light and joyous be, 
 
9^ ANTIOPE. 
 
 For now I 
 Know where my 
 Sweet love sits and pines for me. 
 
 11. 
 
 Thoughts in my soul 
 
 Toll, gladly toll 
 Sorrow's deep and solemn knell, 
 
 For now I 
 
 Swiftly fly 
 To my lovely lady's cell. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Swiftly and lightly 
 
 I fly through the skies, 
 Seeking the tower 
 
 Where Danae sighs. 
 11. 
 Ah languish, my own love, 
 
 No longer for me, 
 Ere the first star of evening 
 
 I shall be with thee. 
 
 XVII. 
 1. 
 When to the sun I came, I did ubpraid 
 In sorry terms the jocund god of day 
 
ANTIOPE. 97 
 
 That suited ill himself to win a maid 
 
 He needs must steal that of his sire away. 
 ii. 
 Then great Apollo, pitying the tear 
 
 He beheld silvering my anxious eye, 
 A moment stayed his coursers' swift career, 
 
 And thus in welcome turn did make reply : 
 in. 
 " Down father, hasten from this burning tower 
 
 To yon drear prison frowning o'er the sea, 
 And there, with cunning equal to thy power, 
 
 Thou shalt regain thy ravished Danae !" 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Son, receive a loving kiss 
 For the words which thou hast spoken, 
 
 Since they heal a loving heart 
 I had thought for ever broken ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Long I wandered through the wood 
 In downcast and weary mood, 
 Waiting for the happy hour 
 I might steal into the tower, 
 Since a guard in armed guise, 
 Everywhere I turned my eyes, 
 Now revealed a living key 
 That could not be turned by me. 
 
98 ANTIOPE. 
 
 XX. 
 
 But with the fall of the night 
 
 Changing to a vapour bright, 
 
 I rose lightly on the air, 
 
 As to kiss the moonbeams there 
 
 Yet in wary wile to see 
 
 Where my prisoned love might be ; 
 
 Soon, to my fond heart's delight, 
 
 I beheld a flickering light, 
 
 And there flying through the pores 
 
 Of stone walls and brazen doors, 
 
 I all stealthily did glide 
 
 Into the hall where my bride 
 
 Lay shedding the abundant tear 
 
 For her Thyrsis, now so near. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 As a-brightening like a sun 
 Through that dreary hall I shone, 
 Danae sprang from the bed 
 Where she lay almost naked, 
 And, wantoning in my light, 
 Like a little cloud of white, 
 Sang a pretty roundelay 
 For her Thyrsis far away. 
 
ANTIOPE. 99 
 
 XXIL 
 
 i. 
 Ah ! Antiope, ungentle maiden, 
 
 Dost thou hear the tale I tell ? 
 And, perchance, would'st thou know further 
 What befell ? 
 
 ii. 
 
 Ah ! then know unto thy sorrow 
 
 Never may the rest be told, 
 
 Until I shall prove more forward 
 
 Or thou less cold ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Pretty, light, and nimble ewes 
 Skipping o'er the crystal dews, 
 Your soft coats of fleece and snow 
 In the morning's silver show, 
 Purer than the spotless flowers 
 Blooming o'er Diana's bowers, 
 Or the waters of the stream 
 As they ripple into cream." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 But whilst Thyrsis thus did sing 
 To his flocks a- gamboling, 
 
IOO ANTIOPE. 
 
 Pretty Phillis down the vale 
 Came a-tripping with a pail 
 Love had sent her forth to fill 
 With pure crystal from the rill. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 And when coming something nigh 
 The choice shallow of her eye 
 She unconsciously laid bare 
 Charms so snowy, soft, and fair, 
 That the shepherd turned in hate 
 From the flocks he loved so late, 
 And in tender accents swore 
 He would love her evermore. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 On soft flowers Coron lay 
 Singing to the dying day 
 Carols the delighted air 
 Bore so sweetly everywhere, 
 That a beauteous naiad rose 
 O'er a streamlet's bubbling snows, 
 And in numbers Cupid's ear 
 Doth alone from Psyche hear 
 Begged him to receive her heart 
 iVs a tribute to his art. 
 
ANTIOPE. IOI 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Thus youth doth woo and love ever, 
 And until the present never 
 Have I known a maiden prove 
 So averse and strange to love. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Well, I own that for awhile 
 Sighs might only make her smile, 
 Yet when tears bedimmed the eye 
 She would grow kind, and comply. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 My numbers they warble 
 Like music that's rolled 
 
 In crystalline mazes 
 O'er pebbles of gold. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Yet whilst my love listens 
 In joy to their strain 
 
 She smiles to the zephyrs 
 That echo my pain. 
 
102 ANTIOPE. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 I will give thee the stars 
 
 Of the evening skies 
 And every bright jewel 
 
 That glittering lies 
 In the sea's amber shells ; 
 I will deck thee with blossoms 
 
 That grow on the vine, 
 And crown thee with lilies 
 
 That luminously shine 
 Through the sky's glassy dells, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 I have seen Psyche as she lay 
 On the vestal flowers of May, 
 Decked in all the rosy wiles 
 That lure Cupid to her smiles ; 
 Yet, sweet, I would rather be 
 The poor daisy trod by thee 
 Than Love as he sinks to rest 
 On the lilies of her breast 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 I. 
 I will bear my own love far away 
 To some star-circled realm on high 
 
ANTIOPE. IC3 
 
 Where the night never frowns on the day, 
 And flowers once born never die. 
 
 n. 
 
 I will gather daffodillies that shine 
 
 Like to sunbeams o'er clear waters there, 
 
 And a wreath of the brightest I'll twine 
 To set on the brow of my fair. 
 
 in. 
 Like a rose on a silvery stem 
 
 My love shall sit high on a throne, 
 And her eyes they shall light on no gem 
 
 But one whisper shall make it her own. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 I. 
 
 For the songs that I sing 
 She hath no ears ; 
 
 For the sigh that I heave 
 No tears. 
 
 11. 
 When I would beg a kiss, 
 
 She denies me ; 
 When I would seek her love, 
 
 She flies me. 
 
104 ANTIOPE. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Ah ! sad to brook the proud disdain 
 
 That lights those beauteous eyes of thine, 
 
 Yet sweeter far to feel the pain 
 
 Than be where they no longer shine. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I. 
 
 Methought as late upon the green 
 I lay in even's mild serene 
 The crystal ether named so bright 
 The sun fled like a star from sight, 
 Whilst seraphs chanting all in choir 
 Bore me away on wings of fire 
 Unto a sphere that glitters far 
 Beyond the faintest twinkling star. 
 
 ii. 
 " I know this some Elysian dream — 
 And all that now so fair doth seem 
 Shall melt like idle mist away 
 Before the morn's awakening ray." 
 And then my eyes began to glow 
 With gems more bright than shone below, 
 For life I loathed — and after this 
 How could I turn to it in bliss ? 
 
ANTIOPE. 105 
 
 III. 
 
 I scarce had said, when through the air 
 A voice thus hailed me wandering there, 
 " Know I have borne the mighty one 
 Unto the kingdom of the sun 
 That thou a season may'st repose 
 Amidst its pleasures, from thy woes.' 
 
 IV. 
 
 I heard no more, but turning on 
 The glories that around me shone, 
 I travelled with so wild a pace 
 The wastes of intervening space 
 I sported soon once more beside 
 The grove where Antiope doth 'bide ; 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 I. 
 Thus, love, like a swallow 
 
 When autumn is nigh, 
 I fled from the pleasures 
 
 That lured me on high ; 
 
 ii. 
 For, sweet, like dead flowers 
 
 Are pleasures to me 
 That far from thy presence 
 
 I share not with thee. 
 
106 ANTIOPE. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Echoes alone 
 Answer the moan 
 
 I make unto her ; 
 Never did maiden prove 
 So coy to love 
 
 When a god did woo her ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 I. 
 I have looked on 
 
 Naiads' play 
 Through the waters 
 
 All the day ; 
 
 ii. 
 But when night stole 
 
 O'er the deep, 
 Growing listless 
 
 They would weep. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 I. 
 For gazing on the bright stars above 
 
 They grew sick at the light of the foam, 
 And sighing for some spirit to love 
 
 They wept to make Heaven their home. 
 
ANTIOPE. 107 
 
 II. 
 
 Oh the stars and the heavens on high 
 Shall obey some sweet maid of the sea, 
 
 For their sovereign and ruler am I, 
 And she shall be both unto me ! 
 
j&ttffc anfr last fart. 
 
Ill 
 
 NAIAD'S SONG. 
 
 A naiad below 
 
 In a star's crystal glow 
 Rapt like a child in its own dream beguiled 
 
 Sweetly sung, " The bright tide 
 
 Like a beam I'll divide 
 To yon beauteous spangle above ; 
 
 For oh, when I wear 
 
 In my glittering hair 
 A jewel that ocean nor earth can compare, 
 
 How winsome and gay 
 
 As I wanton and play 
 Through the palace of shells in the sea's coral dells, 
 
 Shall I seem, shall I seem 
 
 To the lord of the stream, 
 
 Who among all the daughters 
 
 That sport through the waters 
 The maidens of earth or the peris above, 
 
 Hath chosen alone 
 
 Happy ./Enone, 
 To lighten his slumbers with beauty and lovef 
 
112 
 
 LINDOR TO ANTHEA. 
 
 i. 
 
 Though sad the hour that we must part, 
 No tear of mine shall show 'tis nigh ; 
 
 Whate'er thy havoc in my heart, 
 Thou shalt not see it in my eye. 
 
 ii. 
 
 That I have loved thee e'er to-day 
 I've sighed in kisses o'er and o'er, 
 
 But strange as oft forgot to say 
 That I did love myself far more. 
 
IT 3 
 
 FABLES. 
 
 THE THREE KINGS. 
 
 Jn the days of old the sheep resolved to elect a king, 
 and as they wished to live at peace with all the world 
 their choice fell on a young and innocent lamb. 
 Foreign enemies, however, soon presuming on the 
 meekness of the royal temper, the elders of the flock 
 deposed their new king, and offered his crown to 
 the wolf. The wolf indeed protected them from 
 all foes, yet the disquieting presence at court of his 
 numerous brothers and cousins, together with op- 
 pressive taxation and severity of rule in general, 
 compelled the flock ere long to decide on another 
 change of dynasty. So they deposed their second 
 king as they had done the first, and called the dog 
 to the throne ; and the dog was terrible to his ene- 
 mies like the wolf, and gentle to his subjects like 
 the lamb, — so that his reign was in peace and justice ; 
 and though many ages have passed since his election, 
 he still wears the crown he then received. 
 
ii 4 
 
 THE DEPOSIT. 
 
 A wolf eagerly pursued by a farmer he had robbed 
 knocked in his trouble at the door of old Banker Fox, 
 and on his appearing, asked him if, for the interest of 
 a couple of joints, he would hide his booty till he 
 made good his escape. 
 
 " Oh yes, let me have it," answered Reynard, " and 
 I will hide it so well, the owner '11 never find it — nor 
 you either." 
 
IN THOSE DAYS. 
 
 i. 
 In those days the grace of the Spirit had left me, 
 and I grew faint as one that loses blood through a 
 wound. Love burned no more in my bosom, and hope 
 flickered in my heart as in a socket 
 
 ii. 
 
 And I said, Are eyes but for weeping ? and must we 
 only sigh with the heart? or suffering must we bear with 
 affliction for ever ? Behold, I walk among the malignant, 
 and they laugh whilst I mourn ; but I will rise up and 
 go into the tabernacle ; I shall eat of the bread of 
 consolation, and drink of the waters of peace. 
 
 END OF VARIA. 
 
n6 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ASS ! 
 
 In a spring-bower with roses hung 
 
 A nightingale so sweetly sung 
 
 That all who chanced to pass that way 
 
 Did stop to hear and praise her lay. 
 
 An ass howe'er to envy stirred 
 
 At all the compliments he heard, 
 
 Said, " Let us see what I can do 
 
 To hear myself commended too." 
 
 Saying, as he would imitate 
 
 The song that ravished all so late, 
 
 He sent a-shivering down the hill 
 
 A sound so zigzag and so shrill 
 
 The startled world thought Michael's blast 
 
 Had come to wake the dead at last. 
 
 But he, as glorying in a feat 
 
 The finest songster never beat, 
 
 Turning, thus with a happy smile 
 
 Hailed neighbour cow across the stile : 
 
 " Now frankly, widow, do I fail, 
 
 Or succeed as a nightingale ? " 
 
ii 7 
 
 Ah, laugh not if poor Jack would seem 
 Something o'er-bumped with self-esteem, 
 For many men are known to me 
 Less clever and more vain than he. 
 
Tl8 
 
 Four lustres of my life are gone 
 And the better part of one, 
 May all that are still to be 
 Prove more happy unto me. 
 
 " War is the word," and through the earth 
 Men marvelled, whilst a weird past 
 Revolved upon me — for I knew 
 Things history shall never seal 
 On graven memories of brass or stone ! 
 
IT 9 
 
 DESPAIR. 
 
 i. 
 
 The dew on the blossom 
 Now glowing so bright 
 
 In the morn it will vanish 
 Like a dream of delight. 
 
 ii. 
 
 But many a bright morning 
 Will languish and die 
 
 Ere the tear-drop is gone 
 That now glows in my eye. 
 
I20 
 
 " DANTE AT VERONA." * 
 
 As I read the verse 
 
 That doth rehearse 
 Our Allighieri's woes, 
 
 It seemed as I 
 
 But recently 
 Had woke from centuries of repose 
 Only to study o'er 
 
 Days of despair 
 When I the sorrows bore 
 
 That now I bear. 
 
 * The title of a poem by Mr. Rossetti. 
 
121 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh let the purple nectar flow 
 
 Until it fill the bowl ; 
 One sparkle of its dazzling glow 
 Fires me to the soul, 
 And in my sight 
 Shines more bright 
 Than the light of Leila's eyes, 
 Winsome light of Leila's eyes, 
 That comes only 
 
 With the day 
 And with evening 
 Dies away ! 
 
I 22 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 There lilacs to the dallying zephyrs blew 
 
 Like sapphires when through Vesper's haze they show, 
 
 Whilst flowers that shone as dipt in morning's hue 
 
 Strewed all the meadow with an emerald glow ; 
 
 'Midst these my lady sported like a bee, 
 
 Singing the while melodies soft and sweet, 
 
 And now some tender lilac rifled she, 
 
 Now took some violet prisoner at her feet ; 
 
 And as I looked upon her mild employ 
 
 I longed to be a little flower in bloom, 
 
 For though death were the wages of my joy 
 
 In her white bosom I would find my tomb ; 
 
 And who 'midst so much sweetness to repose 
 
 Would dare less than a violet or rose ? 
 
123 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Now from the heaven's glistening cheek 
 The golden blush of day is fled, 
 
 And Vesper through yon deepening streak 
 Gleams like a taper o'er the dead. 
 
 ii. 
 The linnet's carol now is still, 
 
 And in the bower the thrush is mute ; 
 All, all his hushed, save where the rill 
 
 Sings o'er its pebbles like a lute. 
 
124 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 And when my lady neared in thoughtless guile 
 
 The spot where 'mongst the daffodils I lay, 
 Her soft lips parting with a sunny smile, 
 
 Thus she did seem unto herself to say : 
 " Here then in fairy dreams I may beguile 
 
 The weary hours of the lingering day, 
 And Philomel with melting notes of pain 
 Shall waken me unto the chase again." 
 
 ± * ■* * * 
 
 She said, and plucking from her brow a crown, 
 Negligently threw it by the silver bow, 
 
 Unclasped her bracelet and a lily gown 
 From members loosed of palpitating snow : 
 
 So that at last when like a fairy down 
 
 She laid her on the crimson flowers below 
 
 It seemed as she had hastened to prepare 
 
 For a bath rather than for slumber there. 
 
125 
 
 " And now," quoth I, " since in this bland retreat 
 I have found her for whom my heart doth sigh, 
 
 I'll study over every panting sweet 
 
 That she hath hid so often from my eye ; 
 
 So that if I must evermore entreat, 
 And she in turn as wilfully deny, 
 
 I may in fancy look for comfort on 
 
 The reflex of her beauty for the sun." 
 
126 
 
 TO ANTHEA. 
 
 Now the crystalline even rains 
 O'er summer flowers starry grains 
 That in the silvery glow of night 
 Will ripen into gems of light. 
 
 Now roses shining o'er the flood 
 
 Like stars that have been dipped in blood 
 
 Allure the softly blowing air 
 
 Unto the fragrant stores they bear. 
 
127 
 
 SONNET, 
 
 Then quoth I to her, I will prove like thee, 
 And fly thy love as thou dost fly from mine; 
 Since thou hast sown thy scorn like seed in me, 
 Its bitter blossom now shall all be thine ! 
 So when thou dost seek in the happy morn 
 The tears I shed for thee all through the night, 
 Cold glassy dew-drops on the leafless thorn 
 Will answer only to thy longed delight ; 
 Thus like a baffled toiler that doth find 
 A tinsel semblance of the prize he sought 
 Thou shalt weep in the anguish of thy mind 
 At all thy golden dreams that fall to nought, 
 And hold too late of more than primal cost 
 The precious pearl thou hast for ever lost. 
 
128 
 
 LEILA. 
 
 As the day was breaking 
 
 I saw my love lave 
 Her soft snowy members 
 
 In the stream's glassy wave. 
 
 ii. 
 And from that sad hour 
 
 A prey to despair, 
 I sigh and I languish 
 
 That she is so fair. 
 
129 
 
 A NYMPH'S SONG. 
 
 Whilst I wanton in this bower, 
 
 Thinking if my love be true, 
 Let its snow-white blossoms shower 
 Over me like drops of dew, 
 
 That awhile 
 
 I may beguile 
 My fancy into dreaming they 
 
 Are the kisses 
 
 Sweet Narcissis 
 Will give to me at break of day. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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