A Picture by Burne-Jones
PALLID with too much longing,
White with passion and prayer,
Goddess of love and beauty,
She sits in the picture there,—
Sits with her dark eyes seeking
Something more subtle still
Than the old delights of...
Roses and butterflies snared on a fan,
All that is left of summer gone by;
Of swift, bright wings that flashed in the sun,
And loveliest blossoms that bloomed to die!
By what subtle spell did you lure them here,
Fixing a beauty that will not change...
The Spacious Noon enfolds me with its peace—
The affluent Midsummer wraps me round—
So still the earth and air, that scarce a sound
Affronts the silence, and the swift caprice
Of one stray bird’s lone call does but increase
The sense of some...
Round among the quiet graves,
When the sun was low,
Love went grieving,—Love who saves:
Did the sleepers know?
At his touch the flowers awoke,
At his tender call
Birds into sweet singing broke,
And it did befall...
As the wind at play with a spark
Of fire that glows through the night,
As the speed of the soaring lark
That wings to the sky his flight,
So swiftly thy soul has sped
On its upward, wonderful way,
Like the lark, when the dawn is red,...
We lay us down to sleep,
And leave to God the rest:
Whether to wake and weep
Or wake no more be best.
Why vex our souls with care?
The grave is cool and low,—
Have we found life so fair
That we should dread to go?
We ’ve...
Were but my spirit loosed upon the air,—
By some High Power who could Life’s chains unbind,
Set free to seek what most it longs to find,—
To no proud Court of Kings would I repair:
I would but climb, once more, a narrow stair,
When day was wearing late,...
How shall we know it is the last good-by?
The skies will not be darkened in that hour,
No sudden blight will fall on leaf or flower,
No single bird will hush its careless cry,
And you will hold my hands, and smile or sigh
Just as before. Perchance the...
So love is dead that has been quick so long!
Close, then, his eyes, and bear him to his rest,
With eglantine and myrtle on his breast,
And leave him there, their pleasant scents among;
And chant a sweet and melancholy song
About the charms whereof he was...
Come hither and behold this lady’s face,
Who lies asleep, as if strong Death had kissed
Upon her eyes the kiss none can resist,
And held her fast in his prolonged embrace!
See the still lips, which grant no answering grace
To Love’s fond prayers, and the...
