Turn with me from the city’s clamorous street,
Where throng and push passions and lusts and hate,
And enter, through this age-browned, ivied gate,
For many summers’ birds a sure retreat,
The place of perfect peace. And here, most meet
For meditation, where no idle prate
Of the world’s ways may come, rest thee and wait.
’T is very quiet....
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Brother of mine, good monk with cowlëd head,
Walled from that world which thou hast long since fled,
And pacing thy green close beyond the sea,
I send my heart to thee.Down gust-sweet walks, bordered by lavender,
While eastward, westward, the mad swallows whir,
All afternoon poring thy missal fair,
Serene thou pacest there....
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My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But before I go, Tom Moore,
Here ’s a double health to thee!Here ’s a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky ’s above me,
Here ’s a heart for every fate:Though the ocean roar around me,
Yet it still shall bear me on;... -
Take back into thy bosom, earth,
This joyous, May-eyed morrow,
The gentlest child that ever mirth
Gave to be reared by sorrow!
’T is hard—while rays half green, half gold,
Through vernal bowers are burning,
And streams their diamond mirrors hold
To Summer’s face returning—
To say we’re thankful that his sleep
... -
Two souls diverse out of our human sight
Pass, followed one with love and each with wonder:
The stormy sophist with his mouth of thunder,
Clothed with loud words and mantled in the might
Of darkness and magnificence of night;
And one whose eye could smite the night in sunder,
Searching if light or no light were thereunder,
And found in...