she dances,
And I seem to be
In primrose vales of Sicily,
Beside the streams once looked upon
By Thyrsis and by Corydon:
The sunlight laughs as she advances,
Shyly the zephyrs kiss her hair,
And she seems to me as the wood-fawn, free,
And as the wild rose, fair.
Dance, Perdita! and, shepherds...
The knell that dooms the voiceless and obscure
Stills Memnon’s music with its ghostly chime;
Strength is as weakness in the clasp of Time,
And for the things that were there is no cure.
The vineyard with its fair investiture,
The mountain summit with its hoary rime,
The throne of Cæsar, Cheops’ tomb sublime,
Alike decay, and only dreams...
Silent amidst unbroken silence deep
Of dateless years, in loneliness supreme,
She pondered patiently one mighty theme,
And let the hours, uncounted, by her creep
The motionless Himalayas, the broad sweep
Of glacial cataracts, great Ganges’ stream,—
All these to her were but as things that seem,
Doomed all to pass, like phantoms viewed in...
How beautiful to live as thou didst live!
How beautiful to die as thou didst die,—
In moonlight of the night, without a sigh,
At rest in all the best that love could give!
How excellent to bear into old age
The poet’s ardor and the heart of youth,—
To keep to the last sleep the vow of truth,
And leave to lands that grieve a...
The world IS MINE
FOR me the jasmine buds unfold
And silver daisies star the lea,
The crocus hoards the sunset gold,
And the wild rose breathes for me.
I feel the sap through the bough returning,
I share the skylark’s transport fine,
I know the fountain’s way ward yearning;
I love, and the world is mine!...
Come not again! I dwell with you
Above the realm of frost and dew,
Of pain and fire, and growth to death.
I dwell with you where never breath
Is drawn, but fragrance vital flows
From life to life, even as a rose
Unseen pours sweetness through each vein,
And from the air distils again.
You are my rose unseen: we live
Where...
Soft-throated south, breathing of summer’s ease
(Sweet breath, whereof the violet ’s life is made!)
Through lips moist-warm, as thou hadst lately stayed
’Mong rosebuds, wooing to the cheeks of these
Loth blushes faint and maidenly,—rich breeze,
Still doth thy honeyed blowing bring a shade
Of sad foreboding. In thy hand is laid
The power...
The sunshine of thine eyes,
(O still, celestial beam!)
Whatever it touches it fills
With the life of its lambent gleam.
The sunshine of thine eyes,
Oh, let it fall on me!
Though I be but a mote of the air,
I could turn to gold for thee.
Under the apple bough
Love, in a dream of leaves,
Dreamed we of love, as now,—
All that gives beauty or grieves.
Over the sad world then
Curved like the sky that bough;
I was in heaven then,—
You are in heaven now.
I warn, like the one drop of rain
On your face, ere the storm;
Or tremble in whispered refrain
With your blood, beating warm.
I am the presence that ever
Baffles your touch’s endeavor,—
Gone like the glimmer of dust
Dispersed by a gust.
I am the absence that taunts you,
The fancy that haunts you;
The ever...
