¡¶SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE AND OTHER LOVE POEMS¡·


 Elizabeth Barrett Browning

    (1806-1861)

    An Englis t Bro of eleven co  ed at o  volume of poems ely published when she was 14.

    S of o sell ion movement  t to London. ten years later Elizabet used  to e

    Poems (1844) ion by letter to t Robert Bro time. On 12 September 1846 sinely married Broely to Italy. ttled in Florence, in Casa Guidi  iedeman Barrett

    Browning.

    ly during aly, alloravel t Europe. By time of tion of Aurora Leigrictions imposed on orian society, sablis of distinction. In fact, most of alian nationalism. ts from tuguese (1850) altered tions of t by tone of playful  years of erest in spiritualism. tten in eriorating, are said to contain some of  forceful and beautiful lyrics.

 A Child Asleep

    h! having drunken

    eary childhoods mandragore,

    From ty eyes have sunken

    Pleasures, to make room for more---

    Sleeping near the day before.

    Nosegays! leave the waking:

    they grew.

    Dim are suche breaking

    Amaranto---

    Folded eyes see brighe open ever do.

    heaven-flowers, rayed by shadows golden

    From th,

    Now perhaps divinely holden,

    S h---

    e may th.

    Vision unto vision calleth,

    h on.

    Fair, O dreamer, th

    it won!

    Darker  termorn, by summer sun.

    e ss ringing

    Round the clouds away.

    tis t drahem, singing

    In t-seeming clay---

    Singing!---Stars t seem test, go in music all the way.

    As taper,

    As the bees around a rose,

    As ts around a vapour,---

    So ts group and close

    Round about a s repose.

    Sness overlean thee,---

    Flash

    On ts whee,---

    , . . . not in sooth

    t t from some aeth.

    is angels duty,

    During slumber, shade by shade:

    to fine doy

    to t must be made,

    Ere t praises, or tomb s fade.

    Softly, softly! make no noises!

    Now h dead and dumb---

    Now he angels voices

    Folding silence in the room---

    Now hey come.

    Speak not! ed---

    Breath across his eyes.

    Lifted up and separated,

    On the hand of God he lies,

    In a sness beyond toucral sanctities.

    Could ye bless her ?

    Bless the dimple in his cheek?

    Dare ye look at one another,

    And tion speak?

    ould ye not break out in oo weak?

    he is harmless---ye are sinful,---

    Ye are troubled--- ease:

    From ue winful

    Floh increase---

    Dare not bless  be blessed by his peace---and go in peace.

 A Curse For A Nation

    I  night,

    And e!

    rite a Nations curse for me,

    And send it over tern Sea.

    I faltered, taking up the word:

    Not so, my lord!

    If curses must be, cher

    to send t my brother.

    For I am bound by gratitude,

    By love and blood,

    to brothe sea,

    retc kindly o me.

    t te

    My curse to-night.

    From ts of love a curse is driven,

    As ligops of heaven.

    Not so, I answered. Evermore

    My  is sore

    For my otle feet

    Of creet:

    For parked-up  gainsay

    t of way:

    For almsgiving t is

    Not open enougo kiss:

    For love of freedom wes

    Beyond traits:

    For patriot virtue starved to vice on

    Self-praise, self-interest, and suspicion:

    For an oligarc,

    And bribes .

    curse to another land assign,

    he sins of mine?

    t te

    My curse to-night.

    Because t strengto see and e

    A foul te.

    Not so, I answered once again.

    to curse, choose men.

    For I, a woman, have only known

    melts and tears run down.

    t te

    My curse to-night.

    Some women weep and curse, I say

    (And no one marvels), night and day.

    And t take t to-night,

    eep and e.

    A curse from ths of womanhood

    Is very salt, and bitter, and good.

    So te, and mourned indeed,

    all may read.

    And thus, as was enjoined on me,

    I send it over tern Sea.

    the Curse

    Because ye have broken your own chain

    itrain

    Of brave men climbing a Nations ,

    Yet thong

    On souls of othis wrong

    te.

    Because yourselves are standing straight

    In tate

    Of Freedoms foremost acolyte,

    Yet keep calm footing all time

    On his crime

    te.

    Because ye prosper in Gods name,

    ith a claim

    to ,

    Yet do tly

    In strangling martyrs, -- for this lie

    te.

    Ye sch while kings conspire

    Round the peoples smouldering fire,

    And, ,

    Shall never dare -- O shame!

    to utter t into flame

    your .

    te.

    Ye scions strive

    ithe bloodhounds, die or survive,

    Drop faint from their jaws,

    Or ttle to death;

    And only under your breath

    She cause.

    te.

    Ye scrong men draw

    ts of feudal law

    to strangle the weak;

    And, counting the sin for a sin,

    Your soul shin

    the word ye shall speak.

    te.

    t C may avenge

    And deliver th,

    the prayer in your ears, said low,

    Sramp of a foe

    ts driving you forth.

    te.

    heir praise,

    t of the phrase,

    As if carried too far.

    your o true,

    Ye shing which ye do

    Derides w ye are.

    te.

    taunts at your gate,

    Your scorn ye s abate

    As ye look oer the wall;

    For your conscience, tradition, and name

    Explode h a deadlier blame

    t of them all.

    te.

    Go, wherever ill deeds shall be done,

    Go, plant your flag in the sun

    Beside the ill-doers!

    And recoil from clenche curse

    Of Gods nessing Universe

    ith a curse of yours.

    te.

 A Dead Rose

    O Rose! hee?

    No longer roseate no, nor s;

    But pale, and ubble-w,---

    Kept seven years in a draitles shee.

    t used to blohee

    Betake away

    An odour up to last all day,---

    If breatened hee.

    t used to smite thee,

    And mix hy gorgeous urn,

    till beam appeared to bloom, and floo burn,---

    If s a  thee.

    t used to  thee,

    And, , grow incarnadined, because

    It lay upon the crimson was,---

    If dropping no thee.

    t lit upon thee,

    to stretcendrils of its tiny feet,

    Along ter ,---

    If lighee.

    t once did suck thee,

    And build thy perfumed ambers up his hive,

    And sill scarce alive,---

    If passing nohee.

    t dothee,

    Alone, alone! t dot,

    Dot complete,---

    t disguise thee.

    Yes, and t dothee

    More love, dead rose! to such roses bold

    As Julia  dances, smiling cold!---

    Lie still upon t---whee!

 A Mans Requirements

    I

    Love me S, ,

    Feeling, thinking, seeing;

    Love me in test part,

    Love me in full being.

    II

    Love me h

    In its frank surrender;

    ith,

    its silence tender.

    III

    Love me hine azure eyes,

    Made for earnest grantings;

    taking colour from the skies,

    Can ruting?

    IV

    Love me  fall

    Sno first meeting;

    Love me , t all

    Neiging.

    V

    Love me retc

    Freely -- open-minded:

    Love me ering foot, --

    .

    VI

    Love me  turns

    Sudden faint above me;

    Love me  burns

    hen I murmur Love me!

    VII

    Love me hinking soul,

    Break it to love-sighing;

    Love me s t roll

    On through living -- dying.

    VIII

    Love me in thy gorgeous airs,

    hee;

    Love me, kneeling at thy prayers,

    ithee.

    IX

    Love me pure, as muses do,

    Up the woodlands shady:

    Love me gaily, fast and true,

    As a winsome lady.

    X

    t keep us brave,

    Farther off or nigher,

    Love me for the house and grave,

    And for something higher.

    XI

    t prove me, Dear,

    omans love no fable,

    I hee -- half a year --

    As a man is able.

 A Musical Instrument

    was  god Pan,

    Dohe river?

    Spreading ruin and scattering ban,

    Splas,

    And breaking t

    ithe river.

    ore out a reed, t god Pan,

    From the river:

    ter turbidly ran,

    And the broken lilies a-dying lay,

    And the dragon-fly had fled away,

    Ere  it out of the river.

    t god Pan

    urbidly flohe river;

    And  god can,

    iteel at tient reed,

    till t a sign of the leaf indeed

    to prove it freshe river.

    it s, did t god Pan,

    (all it stood in the river!)

    t of a man,

    Steadily from tside ring,

    And notcy thing

    In  by the river.

    t god Pan

    (Laug by the river),

    the only way, since gods began

    to make s music, they could succeed.

    to a he reed,

    he river.

    S, s, s, O Pan!

    Piercing s by the river!

    Blinding s, O great god Pan!

    t to die,

    And the dragon-fly

    Came back to dream on the river.

    Yet  is t god Pan,

    to laugs by the river,

    Making a poet out of a man:

    true gods sig and pain, --

    For the reed which grows nevermore again

    As a reed he river.

 A Sea-Side Walk

    e he sea,

    After a day wly

    Of its ohe Princess weird

    ing the Genius, scorched and seared,

    Uttered ory!

    And sank adown, an heap of ashes pale;

    So runs tale.

    the sky above us showed

    An universal and unmoving cloud,

    On o see

    Only tline of ty,

    As master-minds, he crowd!

    And, ser grey

    Ss moon-taught way.

    Nor moon nor stars .

    t dare to tread so soon about,

    trembling, in tsteps of the sun.

    t s nor days, but one

    y in its doubt;

    And Silences impassioned breathings round

    Seemed o sound.

    O solemn-beating

    Of nature! I  t

    Bound unto mans by cords  sever---

    And, ime they are slackened by him ever,

    So to attest ,

    Still runnetion fast and strong,

    the slackened cord along.

    For though we never spoke

    Of ter anal the shaded rock,---

    Dark one, unconsciously, were fused

    Into tive speaking t we used,

    Of absent friends and memories unforsook;

    And, hers face, we had

    Seen haply, each was sad.

 A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed

    IF God compel to tiny,

    to die alone, hy bed

    to ruffle round  word said

    And mark ears thee,--

    Pray t, come tenderly !

    By the red

    Drear -spread,--

    And thine agony

    Fell bloody from those

    Permitted desolations, comfort mine !

    No earterpose

    No deat my face aud thine,

    But stoop to gather my lifes rose,

    And smile aal to Divine !

 A Womans Shortcomings

    Sly as if she sighed,

    Sed six, and over,

    Of a purse ried -

    Ohy lover!

    t;give imequot;; for  slip

    the grooving;

    So none h her fair red lip:

    But love seeks truer loving.

    Srembles ness dumb,

    As s were beyond recalling;

    ith a glance for one, and a glance for some,

    From her eyelids rising and falling;

    Speaks common h a blushful air,

    hears bold words, unreproving;

    But  she never will swear -

    And love seeks better loving.

    Go, lady! lean to t-guitar,

    And drop a smile to the bringer;

    tly, when he is far,

    At the voice of an in-door singer.

    Bask tenderly beneatender eyes;

    Glance ligheir removing;

    And join neo old perjuries -

    But dare not call it loving!

    Unless you can the song is done,

    No ot in thm;

    Unless you can feel, w by One,

    t all men else go h him;

    Unless you can know, wh,

    t your beauty itself s proving;

    Unless you can s;For life, for deat; -

    Oo call it loving!

    Unless you can muse in a crowd all day

    On t face t fixed you;

    Unless you can love, as the angels may,

    it you;

    Unless you can dream t ,

    through behoving and unbehoving;

    Unless you can die w -

    O loving!

 A Years Spinning

    1

    ened at t day,

    to he wheel go on, and on;

    And t stopped, ran back away,

    the sun:

    But now my spinning is all done.

    2

    beside me, h

    t love neer ended, once begun;

    I smiled--believing for us both,

    ruth for only one:

    And now my spinning is all done.

    3

    My mot I heard

    A young mans wooing as I spun:

    t word--

    For I have, since, a harder known!

    And now my spinning is all done.

    4

    I t--O God!--my first-borns cry

    Boto mine ear would drown:

    I listened in mine agony--

    It he silence made me groan!

    And now my spinning is all done.

    5

    Bury me t my mothers grave,

    (h-bed lone)

    And my dead babys (God it save!)

    to bless me,  moan.

    And now my spinning is all done.

    6

    A stone upon my  and head,

    But no name ten on tone!

    S neigead,

    quot;this sinner was a loving one--

    And now ;

    7

    And let the door ajar remain,

    In case he should pass by anon;

    And leave t very plain,--

    t he sun,

    May see the spinning is all done.

 Adequacy

    NO, by thousand hills,

    Beloved England, doth appear

    Quite good enougo overbear

    th rebellious wills !

    e cannot say the morning-sun fulfils

    Ingloriously its course, nor t the clear

    Strong stars  significance insphere

    Our ation: ime, our ills

    t a cry

    Against t,

    As if ourselves ter certainly

    t o. Maker and ,

    I ask t my joys to multiply,--

    Only to make me .

 An Apprehension

    IF all tlest-ed friends I know

    Concentred in one  tleness,

    t still greler till its pulse was less

    For life ty,--I s be slow

    to bring my own  nakedly below

    t he should press

    Motive, condition, means, appliances,

    My false ideal joy and fickle woe,

    Out full to light and knowledge; I should fear

    Some plait bethe brows, some rougher chime

    In t your flood

    Of bitter scorn dash on me ! do ye hear

    I say wime

    ting face to face h GOD ?

 Aurora Leigh (excerpts)

    [Book 1]

    I am like,

    tell me, my dear father. Broader brows

    , upon a slenderer undergrowth

    Of delicate features, -- paler, near as grave ;

    But the whole,

    And makes it better sometimes tself.

    So, nine full years, our days were h God

    Among ains : I  teen,

    Still gros from unseen roots

    In tongue-tied Springs, -- and suddenly awoke

    to full life and life s needs and agonies,

    itense, strong, struggling  beside

    A stone-dead fatruck sh,

    Makes awful lig word was, `Love --

    `Love, my ch grief)

    `Love, my child. Ere I answered he was gone,

    And none  to love in all the world.

    t succeeded next

    I recollect as, after fevers, men

    the passage of delirium,

    Missing turn still, baffled by the door ;

    Smootch knives ;

    A he flank

    it it s and end itself

    Like some tormented scorpion. t last

    I do remember clearly, here came

    A stranger y, not right,

    (I t not) w me up

    From old Assuntas neck ; h a shriek,

    S me go, -- woo full

    Of my fato shriek back a word,

    In all a conis at grief

    Stared at tood and moaned,

    My poor Assunta, wood and moaned !

    te aly,

    Draeamer-deck,

    Like one in anger drawing back s

    s catc. tter sea

    Inexorably push,

    And sh my despair

    t as a pasture to tars.

    ten nighe deep ;

    ten nig the common face

    Of any day or nighe moon and sun

    Cut off from th,

    to starve into a blind ferocity

    And glare unnatural ; the very sky

    (Dropping its bell-net dohe sea

    As if no  should scape alive,)

    Bedraggled ing salt,

    Until it seemed no more t holy heaven

    to range

    turned stranger, for a child.

    ty cliffs

    Looked cold upon me. Could I find a home

    Among the fog ?

    And w

    From alien lips which had no kiss for mine

    I  aloud, t, t,

    And some one near me said the child was mad

    train s us on.

    as t isle ?

    t up from the fellowship

    Of verdure, field from field, as man from man ;

    tive,

    As almost you could touch a hand,

    And dared to do it they were so far off

    From Gods celestial crystals ; all things blurred

    And dull and vague. Did Ses

    Absorb t  a one

    it to strike a radiant colour up

    Or active outline on t air.

    I ter stand

    Upon tep of ry-house

    to give me raight and calm,

    narro

    As if for taming accidental ts

    From possible pulses ; brown h grey

    By frigid use of life, (s old

    Althers elder by a year)

    A nose drae lines ;

    A close mild mouttle soured about

    ted loves

    Or peradventure niggardly ruths ;

    Eyes of no colour, -- once t have smiled,

    But never, never  themselves

    In smiling ; c a rose

    Of perished summers, like a rose in a book,

    Kept more for rut bloom,

    Past fading also.

    She had lived, well say,

    A uous life,

    A quiet life,  all,

    (But t, s lived enougo know)

    Betry squires,

    tenant looking doimes

    From to assure their souls

    Against che abyss

    thecary, looked on once a year

    to prove ty.

    tian gifts

    Of knitting stockings, stitcticoats,

    Because we are of one fleser all

    And need one flannel (h a proper sense

    Of difference in ty) -- and still

    trick

    Of sions from the crease,

    Preserved ellectual. She had lived

    A sort of cage-bird life, born in a cage,

    Accounting t to leap from perco perch

    as act and joy enough for any bird.

    Dear  live

    In ts, and eat berries !

    I, alas,

    A wild bird scarcely fledged, was brougo her cage,

    And so meet me. Very kind.

    Bring ter, give out the fresh seed.

    Sood upon teps to welcome me,

    Calm, in black garb. I clung about her neck, --

    Young babes, wc every shred of wool

    to dra closer, catch and cling

    Less blindly. In my ears, my fathers word

    ly, as the sea in shells,

    `Love, love, my ch my grief,

    Miger once,

    I clung to , she seemed moved,

    Kissed me o cling,

    And dreo

    te in.

    trange spasm

    Of pain and passion, she wrung loose my hands

    Imperiously, and  arms length,

    And eel naked-bladed eyes

    Searcabbed it through,

    to find

    A  face,

    If not h,

    Sruggled for her ordinary calm

    And missed it ratold me not to shrink,

    As if sold me not to lie or swear, --

    `Soo

    As long as I deserved it. Very kind.

    [Book 5]

    AURORA LEIGh, be humble. Shall I hope

    to speak my poems in mysterious tune

    iture ? -- he lava-lymph

    t trickles from successive galaxies

    Still drop by drop adohe finger of God

    In still nehis ?

    t scarce dare breatiful ?--

    itrouble in the ground,

    tormented by ts,

    And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves

    In token of t-time of flowers ?--

    iters and umns, -- and beyond,

    its large seasons, w hopes

    And fears, joys, grieves, and loves ? --  strain

    Of sexual passion, whe flesh

    In a sacrament of souls ? s

    ures here,

    throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres ? --

    ititudinous life, and finally

    it escapings of ecstatic souls,

    oo long prisoned flame,

    t faces upward, burn away

    the body, issuing on a world,

    Beyond our mortal ? -- can I speak my verse

    Sp plainly in tune to t,

    t men s catche quick,

    As  over them

    to hey will or no,

    Alike imperious as thm

    Of t ture ? I must fail,

    to hold and move

    One man, -- and he my cousin, and he my friend,

    And ender, made intelligent,

    Inclined to ponder tous sides

    Of difficult questions ; yet, obtuse to me,

    Of me, incurious ! likes me very well,

    And wishes me a paradise of good,

    Good looks, good means, and good digestion, -- ay,

    But ots me off

    itolerant gentleness, --

    too light a book for a grave mans reading ! Go,

    Aurora Leigh : be humble.

    t is,

    e oo apt to look to One,

    ain impotence in art.

    e strain our natures at doing somet,

    Far less because it s somet to do,

    t we, so, commend ourselves

    As being not small, and more appreciable

    to some one friend. e must ors

    Bet our  conscience and the judge ;

    Some s saints blood must quicken in our palms

    Or all the life in heaven seems slow and cold :

    Good only being perceived as the end of good,

    And God alone pleased, -- ts too poor, hink,

    And not enough for us by any means.

    Ay, Romney, I remember, told me once

    e miss tract when we comprehend.

    e miss it most when we aspire, -- and fail.

    Yet, so, I . -- this vile womans way

    Of trailing garments, s trip me up :

    I ll raffic

    In arts pure temple. Must I work in vain,

    it tion of a man ?

    It cannot be ; it s. Fame itself,

    t approbation of the general race,

    Presents a poor end, (the arrow speed,

    S straigo te,)

    And t fame was never reac

    By . Art for art,

    And good for God ial Good !

    e ll keep our aims sublime, our eyes erect,

    Although our woman-hands should shake and fail ;

    And if  must we ? --

    Shall I fail ?

    tragic phrase,

    `Let no one be called ill h.

    to ill h

    Be called un the work

    Until t and the labour done,

    t,

    scant ; affect no compromise ;

    And, in t  least,

    Deal hough we be.

    And rut h praise.

 Autumn, The

    Go, sit upon ty hill,

    And turn your eyes around,

    ers wild

    Do umn sound.

    t on them --

    t --

    Sit still -- as all transformd to stone,

    Except your musing .

    in summer-time,

    May yet be in your mind;

    And he green woods sing

    Beneathe freshening wind.

    the same wind now blows around,

    You s blast recall;

    For every breat stirs trees,

    Doto fall.

    O h

    t fles impart:

    e cannot bear its visitings,

    .

    Gay s may make us smile,

    hen Sorrow is asleep;

    But ot make us smile,

    hen Sorrow bids us weep!

    t  clasp our hands, --

    their presence may be oer;

    t voice t meets our ear,

    t tone may come no more!

    Youth,

    hich once refreshd our mind,

    Shose sighing woods,

    tumn wind.

    t the woods;

    Look out oer vale and hill-

    In spring, them --

    till.

    Come autumns scaters cold --

    Come ce!

    ever prospect h bound,

    Can neer be desolate.

 Best Thing in the World, The

    s t the world?

    June-rose, by May-dew impearled;

    S sout means no rain;

    trut cruel to a friend;

    Pleasure, not in e to end;

    Beauty, not self-decked and curled

    till its pride is over-plain;

    Love, when, so, youre loved again.

    s t the world?

    --Somet of it, I think.

 Bianca Among The Nightingales

    tood up like a church

    t nig our love would hold,

    And saintly moonligo search

    And washe whole world clean as gold;

    tallized the vales

    Broad slopes until trong:

    tingales

    to either, flame and song.

    tingales, tingales.

    Upon ts shade

    tood, self-balanced high;

    half up, half down, as double-made,

    Along t the sky.

    And oo! from suc

    Such leaps of blood, so blindly driven,

    e scarce kneure meant

    Most passionate eartense heaven.

    tingales, tingales.

    e paled h love,

    e kissed so close  vow;

    till Giulio w, above

    Gods Ever guarantees this Now.

    And tingales

    Drove straigheir long clear call,

    Like arrohrough heroic mails,

    And love  all.

    tingales, tingales.

    O cold we moonligh,

    Refreshis hell!

    O coverture of death

    Across this garden-chamber... well!

    But o do

    In gloomy England, called the free.

    (Yes, free to die in!...) wwo

    Are sundered, singing still to me?

    And still tingales.

    I think I hear him, how he cried

    My oes.

    Eac one soul supplied,

    And ts immortal. ts

    On fire o her

    say o me he said!

    And yet hey aver.

    tingales sing through my head.

    tingales, tingales.

    o  moves .

    name hin

    ito her lips and chin.

    Man  one soul, tis ordained,

    And eac one love, I add;

    Yet souls are damned and loves profaned.

    tingales will sing me mad!

    tingales, tingales.

    I marvel he birds can sing.

    ttle difference, in their view,

    Bet our tuscan trees t spring

    As vital flames into the blue,

    And dull round blots of foliage meant

    Like saturated sponges here

    to suck tent

    Is oo in tis clear.

    And still tingales.

    My native Florence! dear, forgone!

    I see across the Alpine ridge

    feast-day of Saint John

    S rockets from Carraia bridge.

    ty, tall h fire,

    trod deep do river of ours,

    h lamp and choir

    Skimmed birdlike over glittering towers.

    I  ingales.

    I seem to float, o float

    Doream in festive guise;

    A boat strikes flame into our boat,

    And up t lady seems to rise

    As the shock had flashed

    A vision on us!  a head,

    leaping eyeballs!amp;mdasy dashed

    to splendour by a sudden dread.

    And still tingales.

    too bold to sin, too o die;

    Such women are so. As for me,

    I would we here, he and I,

    t moment, loving perfectly.

    caugh her loosed

    Gold ringlets... rarer in th...

    Nor anto bruised

    to sness by h.

    And still tingales.

    S reac my

    itongue, as snakes indeed

    Kill flies; nor ,

    Yearned after, in my desperate need,

    And followed him as he did her

    to coasts left bitter by tide,

    ingales, elsewhere

    Deligorture and deride!

    For still tingales.

    A hless woman! mere cold clay

    As all false t so fair,

    Sakes th of men away

    ho gaze upon her unaware.

    I  play ricks

    to ole,

    And spat into my loves pure pyx

    the rank saliva of her soul.

    And still tingales.

    I  for e and pink,

    though such he likesamp;mdash;her grace of limb,

    t, I think,

    For life itself, t h him,

    Commit suc

    Gods nature wrude

    t two affianced souls, and

    Like spiders, in tars wood.

    I cannot bear tingales.

    If sler guise

    S  seems:

    S  both my eyes,

    And I still seen him in my dreams!

    - Or drugged me in my soup or wine,

    Nor left me angry afterward:

    to die h his hand in mine

    hard.

    (Our Lady ingales!)

    But set a springe for him, mio ben,

    My only good, my first last love!amp;mdash;

    t knows well w sin is, when

    move

    o  her pass.

    I t and day.

    Must I too join , alas!...

    ith Giulio, in each word I say!

    And evermore tingales!

    Giulio, my Giulio!amp;mdashey so,

    And you be silent? Do I speak,

    And you not hrow

    Round some one, and I feel so weak?

    - Oe,

    te, they sing for doom!

    t,

    tun me in tombamp;mdash;

    tingales, tingales!

 Change Upon Change

    Five montream did flow,

    the sedge,

    And o and fro,

    rack this snow,

    Along tream, beside the hedge.

    A, be free to love and go!

    For if I do not ,

    te,

    to t:

    And whese be changed since May,

    S they.

    And sloer snow

    tears ed to mine eyes;

    And my poor chs ago

    Set blus thy praises so,

    Put paleness on for a disguise.

    A, be free to praise and go!

    For if my face is turned too pale,

    It  first did fail, --

    It hy love proved false and frail, --

    And whese be changed enow,

    Shou.

 Cheerfulness Taught By Reason

    I too ready

    In this fair world of Gods. had we no hope

    Indeed beyond the slope

    Of yon gray blank of sky, we mig

    to muse upon eternitys constraint

    Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope

    Must  o droop,

    For a feaint ?

    O pusillanimous , be comforted

    And, like a craveller, take the road

    Singing beside t if the bread

    Be bitter in thou unshod

    to meet ts ? At least it may be said

    Because t, I thee, God.

 Chorus of Eden Spirits

    your souls behind you

    turn, gently moved!

    Our voices feel along to find you,

    O lost, beloved!

    trong-marshalled angels,

    they press and pierce:

    Our requiems follo on our evangels,¡ª

    Voice throbs in verse.

    e are but orps left in Eden

    A time ago:

    God gave us golden cups, and we were bidden

    to feed you so.

    But now our righ no cup remaining,

    No o do,

    tic , and staining

    through.

    Most ineradicable stains, for showing

    (Not interfused!)

    t brighe world¡¯s foregoing,

    than shall be used.

    hearken, oh hearken! ye shall hearken surely

    For years and years,

    the noise beside you, dripping coldly, purely,

    Of spirits¡¯ tears.

    to a beautiful denied you,

    Srain your powers.

    Ideal snesses shall over-glide you,

    Resumed from ours.

    In all your music, our patic minor

    Your ears shall cross;

    And all good gifts shall mind you of diviner,

    ith sense of loss.

    e s-languors

    And remes,

    time ye vex t h vain angers,

    Or mock h dreams.

    And wer roaming,

    Deat,

    By the coming,

    t.

 Comfort

    SPEAK loo me, my Saviour, lo

    From out t and low

    Lest I shee so

    not missed by any t entreat.

    Speak to mo as to Mary at t !

    And if no precious gums my ow,

    Let my tears drop like amber while I go

    In reac voice complete

    In  affection -- th,

    to lose the sense of losing. As a child,

    he wood for evermore

    Is sung to in its stead by moth

    till, sinking on , love-reconciled,

    er t  before.

 Consolation

    All are not taken; t behind

    Living Belov¨¨ds, tender looks to bring

    And make t still a hing,

    And tender voices, to make soft the wind:

    But if it  so¡ªif I could find

    No love in all ting,

    Nor any pat hollowly did ring

    to dust the love from life disjoind;

    And if, before those sepulchres unmoving

    I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb

    Goes bleating up th)

    Crying here are ye, O my loved and loving?¡ª

    I knoer, I AM.

    Can I suffice for  for earth?

 Cry Of The Children, The

    Do ye hers,

    Ere th years?

    t thers---

    And t cannot stop tears.

    ting in the meadows;

    t;

    the shadows;

    to---

    But thers,

    tterly!---

    time of thers

    In try of the free.

    Do you question the sorrow,

    ears are falling so?---

    to-morrow

    in Long Ago---

    tree is leafless in t---

    t---

    tricken, is t---

    t to be lost:

    But thers,

    Do you ask tand

    eeping sore before thers,

    In our herland?

    their pale and sunken faces,

    And to see,

    For t, draws and presses

    Dohe cheeks of infancy---

    quot;Your old eart; t;is very dreary;quot;

    quot;Our young feet,quot; t;are very weak!

    Fe are weary?

    Our grave-rest is very far to seek.

    Ask t the children,

    For tside earth is cold,---

    And and , in our bewildering,

    And the old.

    quot;true,quot; say t;it may happen

    t ime.

    Little Alice died last year---the grave is shapen

    Like a snohe rime.

    e looked into t prepared to take her---

    as no room for any he close clay:

    From th none will wake her

    Crying, Get up, little Alice! it is day.

    If you listen by t grave, in sun and shower,

    ittle Alice never cries!---

    Could we see  know her,

    For time for growing in her eyes---

    And merry go s, lulled and stilled in

    the kirk-chime!

    It is good he children,

    quot;t ime.quot;

    Alas, alas, they are seeking

    Deat to have!

    ts away from breaking,

    it from the grave.

    Go out, cy---

    Sing out, ctle thrushes do---

    Pluck your ty---

    Laugo feel your fingers let through!

    But t;Are your cohe meadows

    Like our he mine?

    Leave us quiet in the coal-shadows,

    From your pleasures fair and fine!

    quot;For o; say t;we are weary,

    And  run or leap---

    If  were merely

    to drop dohem and sleep.

    Our knees tremble sorely in tooping---

    e fall upon our faces, trying to go;

    And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping,

    t flower would look as pale as snow.

    For, all day, iring,

    the coal-dark, underground---

    Or, all day, he wheels of iron

    In tories, round and round.

    quot;For, all day, turning,---

    their wind comes in our faces,---

    till our s turn,---our h pulses burning,

    And turn in their places---

    turns the high window blank and reeling---

    turns t t droppethe wall---

    turn t crahe ceiling---

    All are turning, all th all.---

    And, all day, the iron wheels are droning;

    And sometimes we could pray,

    O ye w in a mad moaning)

    Stop! be silent for to-day! quot;

    Ay! be silent! Let thing

    For a moment, mouto mouth---

    Let touching

    Of tender h!

    Let t tallic motion

    Is not all the life God fashions or reveals---

    Let t tion

    t they live in you, os under you, O wheels!---

    Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,

    Grinding life dos mark;

    And the childrens souls, which God is calling sunward,

    Spin on blindly in the dark.

    Noell thers,

    to look up to him and pray---

    So thers,

    ill bless ther day.

    t; he should hear us,

    e tirred?

    ures near us

    Pass by, , or ans a word!

    And heir resounding)

    Strangers speaking at the door:

    Is it likely God, h angels singing round him,

    hears our weeping any more?

    quot;two words, indeed, of praying we remember,

    And at midnights hour of harm,---

    Our Fathe chamber,

    e say softly for a charm.

    e kno Our Father,

    And , in some pause of angels song,

    God may pluck t to gather,

    And  rong.

    Our Father! If he heard us, he would surely

    (For they call him good and mild)

    Anseep world very purely,

    Come and rest h me, my child.

    quot;But no!quot; say ter,

    quot;one;

    And tell us, of er

    o work on.

    Go to!quot; say t;Up in heaven,

    Dark, wurning clouds are all we find.

    Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving---

    e look up for God, but tears ;

    Do you he children weeping and disproving,

    O my brot ye preach?

    For Gods possible is taught by his worlds loving---

    And t of each.

    And he children weep before you;

    they run;

    the glory

    er the sun:

    t not the wisdom;

    t its calm---

    Are slaves,  ty in Cdom,---

    Are martyrs, by t the palm,---

    Are  unretrievingly

    No dear remembrance keep,---

    Are orphly love and heavenly:

    Let t them weep!

    their pale and sunken faces,

    And to see,

    For their places,

    it for Deity;---

    quot;; t;ion,

    ill you stand, to move t,

    Stifle dos palpitation,

    And tread ono your t?

    Our blood splasyrants,

    And your purple sh;

    But the silence

    trong man in ;

 De Profundis

    the sun,

    Rose up for me h life begun,

    to mark all brighe day

    ith hourly love, is dimmed away¡ª

    And yet my days go on, go on.

    he reigns below, he reigns alone,

    Among ures anywhere

    So, lizard-like, hin her side,

    And every morning h  Good day

    Make each day good, is hushed away,

    No mortal grief deserves t crown.

    t waff, was one

    O supreme Love, chief misery,

    I trust thee while my days go on.

    iteadfast love, is caught away,

    Fair mists of serap and fall

    And cold before my summers done,

    And deaf in Natures general tune,

    And fallen too low for special fear,

    Or rules h him, while days go on?

    ears drop, my days go on.

    ¡®to the bone;¡¯

    And tender friends go sighing round,

    ¡® love can ever cure this wound ?

    My days go on, my days go on.

    And yet my days go on, go on.

    And makes all night. O dreams begun,

    Not to be ended! Ended bliss,

    Systems burn out and hrone;

    My days go on, my days go on.

    the rivers overleap

    to its own,

    From off t has grown,

    -bare, -hungry, very poor,

    ed days go on.

    Some cubit-space, and say ¡®Behold,

    No gleaning in t plains

    heir loaded wains?

    By anguishe sun,

    ture, the snows be down,

    the bird of June:

    ttle red ree

    erly go on?

    No bird am I, to sing in June,

    And dare not ask an equal boon.

    Good nests and berries red are Natures

    to give ao better creatures, ¡ª

    And yet my days go on, go on.

    ¡ªA Voice reproves me thereupon,

    till days go out which now go on.

    Only to loose these pilgrim shoon,

    (too early

    Cool deadly touco tired feet.

    I sit and knock at Natures door,

    trongest on t day

    Only to lift turf unmown

    Forgetting he days go on.¡¯

    Only the good.

    I knock and cry, ¡ªUndone, undone!

    do? Green anon

    the sward would quicken, overshone

    By skies as blue; and crickets might

    o c

    on,  on.

    From gracious Nature have I won

    Creep in, poor , beneat fold,

    My vacant days go on, go on.

    I ask less kindness to be done, ¡ª

    By days t painfully go on?

    More s tures whe drone

    For mine to lean and rest upon,

    Breato moan:

    thunder on.

    Sucy? may I run

    Gods Voice, not Natures! Night and noon

    s upon t hrone

    And listens for tures praise.

    the Day-spring he, whose days go on.

    babble we of days and days?

    And h hope no longer here,

    he reigns above, he reigns alone;

    Around him, changeless amid all,

    Ancient of Days, whose days go on.

    Is ripe for suc is for me,

    he Jealous God. ho mourns

    And, having life in love forgone

    Beneathorns,

    e  struggle nor impugn.

    As a child drops his pebble small

    t,

    As one alone, once not alone,

    And yet my days go on, go on.

    Blasp h despair,

    however darkly days go on.

    For us, ¡ªwevers undergone,

    take from my h brown!

    And life t  end in this!

    t rolls forhe sun

    thee

    ernally go on!

    Of bees is sest, and more deep

    t,  w is done,

    Grief may be joy misunderstood;

    I s t none

    Smoot stone,

    evers lost, it first was won;

    tongue wream, could run

    Perhe cup was broken here,

    t  show more clear.

    I praise thee while my days go on.

    I praise thee while my days go on;

    I love thee while my days go on:

    Down some deep well, and  fall

    itied arms and treasure lost,

    I thee while my days go on.

    And tried

    And hrown

    Being and suffering (which are one),

    Is t, ¡ªnone?

    Smiling¡ªso I. thY DAYS GO ON.

 Deserted Garden, The

    I mind me in ted,

    en underneathe sun

    ito run

    to a garden long deserted.

    te;

    And he spade,

    t grasses Nature laid

    to sanctify .

    I called the place my wilderness,

    For no one entered t I;

    to espy,

    And passed it neertheless.

    trees erwoven wild,

    And spread t

    to keep bot,

    But not a happy child.

    Adventurous joy it was for me!

    I crept beneathe boughs, and found

    A circle smooth of mossy ground

    Beneatree.

    Old garden rose-trees  in,

    Bedropt e

    ell satisfied

    And careless to be seen.

    Long years ago it might befall,

    rim,

    the grave old gardener prided him

    On t of all.

    Some lady, stately overmuch,

    h a silken noise,

    the voice

    t likened o such.

    And to make a diadem,

    Sen may wined,

    came to mind

    t fe them.

    Otle t t lady proud,

    A cce rose,

    er brows,

    And silk was changed for shroud!

    Nor t t gardener, (full of scorns

    For men unlearned and simple phrase,)

    A c all its praise

    By creeping thorns!

    to me upon my lo,

    t

    Of science or loves compliment,

    I  as s.

    It did not move my grief to see

    trace of ep departed:

    Because ted,

    ther place for me!

    Friends, blame me not! a narrow ken

    the sun and sward;

    e draerward,

    e feel then.

    And gladdest hours for me did glide

    In silence at tree wall:

    A thrush made gladness musical

    Upon ther side.

    Nor he nor I did eer incline

    to peck or pluck te;

    roses might

    Lead lives as glad as mine?

    to make my -e,

    I brouger from the spring

    Praised in its own low murmuring,

    And cresses glossy .

    And so, I t, my likeness grew

    (it tale)

    to quot;Gentle  of t;

    And Angelina too.

    For oft I read hin my nook

    Sucrel stories; till the breeze

    Made sounds poetic in trees,

    And t the book.

    If I s te

    I

    trees, nor feel t c

    Delig.

    My ced,

    My footstep from the moss which drew

    Its fairy circle round: anew

    ted.

    Anothere rehearse

    test are;

    No more for me! myself afar

    Do sing a sadder verse.

    A I lay

    In t c so greenly ,

    I laugo myself and t

    quot;time ;

    And still I laug fear

    But t, w away

    time, some happier play

    My womanhood would cheer.

    I kneime would pass away,

    And yet, beside tree wall,

    Dear God,  all,

    Did I look up to pray!

    time is past; and no grows

    trees,

    And I bee sepulchres

    As e rose, --

    s are given,

    And I  to lift my face,

    Reminded  place

    the color draws from heaven, --

    It somethly pain,

    But more for heavenly promise free,

    t I wo be

    t happy child again.

 Discontent

    LIGure is too ligost

    And ruffled  cause, complaining on--

    Restless , until, being overthrown,

    It learneto lie quiet. Let a frost

    Or a small o t

    Of our ripe peac the wilful sun

    Sraight we run

    A furlongs sig.

    But ime t and the brain

    God ransfixed us,--we, so moved before,

    Attain to a calm. Ay, ss of pain,

    e ancers, safe from shore,

    And ormy main

    Gods cered judgments walk for evermore.

 Exaggeration

    E overstate take

    Imagination (given us to bring down

    the choirs of singing angels overshone

    By Gods clear glory) doo rake

    tead, flake following flake,

    to cover all the corn; we walk upon

    thrown,

    And pant like climbers: near the alder brake

    e sigingale hin

    Refuses to sing loud, as else she would.

    O brot us leave the shame and sin

    Of taking vainly, in a plaintive mood,

    the holy name of GRIEF !--holy herein

    t by the grief of ONE came all our good.

 From ¡®The Soul¡¯s Travelling¡¯

    God, God!

    ith a child¡¯s voice I cry,

    eak, sad, confidingly¡ª

    God, God!

    t, eyelids, raised not always up

    Unto thy love (as none of ours are), droop

    As ours, o¡¯er many a tear!

    t, thy universe is broad,

    ttle tears suffice to cover all:

    t, t so prodigal

    Of beauty,  but stricken deer

    Expiring in t care for none

    Of tsome flohey die upon.

    O blissful Mouth

    e name our souls, self-spoilt!¡ªby t strong passion

    strong death

    he wrack

    them back,

    Back to tinuous aspiration!

    For here, O Lord,

    For ravel vainly,¡ªvainly pass

    From city-pavement to untrodden sward,

    in the grass

    Cold  dew. Yea, very vain

    test speed of all these souls of men

    Unless travel upo throne

    test tisfying ONE,

    itings

    For all requirements¡ªwhe archangel, raising

    Unto tatic gazing,

    Forgets ture of his wings.

 Futurity

    AND, O beloved voices, upon which

    Ours passionately call because erelong

    Ye brake off in t song

    e sang togetly, to enrich

    tch,

    t out of trong,

    Kno lost for aye among

    t years thrush. God keeps a niche

    In o

    o our faces and denied

    t our close kisses se,

    I know we se,

    t s from ty,--glorified

    Ne God-light.

 Grief

    I tELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;

    t only men incredulous of despair,

    aug air

    Beat upo Gods throne in loud access

    Of sness,

    In souls as countries, liet-bare

    Under tical eye-glare

    Of te ed man, express

    Grief for to death--

    Most like a monumental statue set

    In everlasting ch and moveless woe

    till itself crumble to t beneath.

    touc; t :

    If it could  could arise and go.

 House Of Clouds, The

    I would build a cloudy house

    For my ts to live in;

    oo fancy-loose

    And too low for heaven!

    alk my dream aloud---

    I build it brigo see,---

    I build it on t cloud,

    to whee.

    Cloud-he mornings grey,

    Faced h amber column,---

    Croh crimson cupola

    From a sunset solemn!

    May mists, for ts, fetch,

    Pale and glimmering;

    ith a sunbeam hid in each,

    And a smell of spring.

    Build trance high and proud,

    Darkening and tening,---

    If a riven thunder-cloud,

    Veined by tning.

    Use one ain,

    For thin;

    turning to a sound like rain,

    As I enter in.

    Build a spacious hereby:

    Boldly, never fearing.

    Use the sky,

    he wind is clearing;

    Branch corridors sublime,

    Flecked airs---

    Suco climb,

    Folloheir own prayers.

    In test of the house,

    I will have my chamber:

    Silence at the door shall use

    Evenings light of amber,

    Solemnising every mood,

    Softemng in degree,---

    turning sadness into good,

    As I turn the key.

    Be my capestried

    ithe showers of summer,

    Close, but soundless,---glorified

    he sunbeams come here;

    andering harpers, harping on

    aters stringed for such,---

    Draune,

    it touch.

    Bring a sill

    From tnut forest,

    Bring a purple from the hill,

    is sorest;

    Spread t from o wall,

    Carpet-wove around,---

    shall fall

    In ligead of sound.

    Bring tasque cloudlets home

    From tide zenith

    Ranged, for sculptures, round the room,---

    Named as Fancy h:

    Some be Junos,  eyes;

    Naiads,  sources

    Some be birds of paradise,---

    Some, Olympian horses.

    Bring the birds shake off,

    aking in the hedges,---

    too, perfumed for a proof,

    From the lilies edges:

    From our Englands field and moor,

    Bring te in;

    o form a mirror pure,

    For Loves self-delighting.

    Bring a grey cloud from t,

    he lark is singing;

    Somet least,

    Unlost in the bringing:

    t shall be a morning chair,

    Poet-dream may sit in,

    leans out on the air,

    Unrten.

    Bring the sun

    c.

    t sh one

    Sidelong star to c,---

    Fit for poets finest t,

    At the curfew-sounding,--- ;

    t

    the seen, around him.

    Poets t,----not poets sigh!

    Las, together!

    Cloudy walls divide and fly,

    As in April her!

    Cupola and column proud,

    Structure brigo see---

    Gone---except t moonlit cloud,

    to whee!

    Let them! ipe such visionings

    From tel---

    Love secures some fairer things

    Doal.

    the sun may darken,---heaven be bowed---

    But still, unchanged shall be,---

    moonlit cloud,

    to whEE!

 How Do I Love Thee?

    me count the ways.

    I love to t

    My soul can reac of sight

    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    I love to the level of every days

    Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

    I love trive for Right;

    I love turn from Praise.

    I love  to use

    In my old griefs, and h.

    I love to lose

    it saints, -- I love th,

    Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,

    I s love tter after death.

 Human Life¡¯s Mystery

    e sohe corn,

    e build t,

    And t moments, suddenly,

    e look up to t wide sky,

    Inquiring wherefore we were born¡­

    For earnest or for jest?

    thick and dark

    About tifled soul hin,

    e guess diviner things beyond,

    And yearn to th yearning fond;

    e strike out blindly to a mark

    Believed in, but not seen.

    e vibrate to t and thrill

    ernity has curled

    In serpent-t God¡¯s seat;

    o ,

    In gradual growth his full-leaved will

    Expands from o world.

    And, in tumult and excess

    Of act and passion under sun,

    e sometimes  and far,

    As silver star did toucar,

    teousness

    t are done.

    God keeps eries

    Just on tside of man¡¯s dream;

    In diapason slohink

    to heir pinions rise and sink,

    pure beneath his eyes,

    Like sream.

    Abstractions, are the forms

    Of  beauty?¡ªexaltations

    From  glory?¡ªstrong previsions

    Of ions

    Of orms,

    Beyond our peace and passions?

    things nameless! which, in passing so,

    Do stroke us le grace.

    e say, ¡®hey are dumb.

    e cannot see them go or come:

    touc, cold, as snow

    Upon a blind man¡¯s face.

    Yet, touchey draw above

    Our common ts to heaven¡¯s unknown,

    Our daily joy and pain advance

    to a divine significance,

    Our al love,

    t lig its own!

    And sometimes horror chills our blood

    to be so near sucic things,

    And we wrap round us for defence

    Our purple manners, moods of sense¡ª

    As angels from the face of God

    Stand heir wings.

    And sometimes through life¡¯s heavy swound

    e grope for trangled breath

    e stretcry

    to reachem in our agony,¡ª

    And he broad life-wound

    h.

 I

    Less absolute exclusion. Nay is worse

    ho each one in a gracious hand appears

    ts, placed there, would have signified

    And, as I mused it in ique tongue,

    From God thers, O my friend !

    Guess nohere,

    Of t years, the dear and wished-for years,

    So weeping, ic Shape did move

    t Deat Love.

    A sraightway I was ware,

    tree ?

    t, sad years, the melancholy years,

    I saears,

    A guest for queens to social pageantries,

    And a voice said in mastery, wrove,--

    I t once us had sung

    tening ! and replied

    One of us . . . t he curse

    Of c  to do

    My sig if I had died,

    turns had flung

    But only three in all Gods universe

    e s voer for tars.

    Men could not part us heir worldly jars,

    Nor tempests bend;

    to bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

    And Deat dig these agree.

    Our ministering two angels look surprise

    Unlike are we, unlike, O princely  !

    Unlike our uses and our destinies.

    So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce

    On one anotrike at

    think

    the dew,--

    And,  the end,

    tears even can make mine, to play t

    iter eyes

    ittice-lig me,

    II

    said,--himself, beside

    Our oucain-bars:

    Behe hair:

 Insufficiency

    tain to utter forth in verse

    Some in, my soul throbs audibly

    Along my pulses, yearning to be free

    And somether, fuller, higher, rehearse

    to true, and the universe,

    In consummation of right harmony:

    But, like a orted tree,

    e are blo for ever by the curse

    ure. Ohe world is weak !

    to all,

    And  conceive o speak.

    ait, soul, until ts fall,

    And trains, and seek

    Fit peroration  let or thrall.

 Irreparableness

    I he day

    And gat you see

    Singing hin myself as bird or bee

    hen such do field-work on a morn of May.

    But, now I look upon my flowers, decay

    tally

    Because more warmly clasped,--and sobs are free

    to come instead of songs.  do you say,

    S counsellors, dear friends ? t I should go

    Back straigo ther more ?

    Anot, but not I !

    My  is very tired, my strength is low,

    My hands are full of blossoms plucked before,

    ill myself shall die.

 IV

    t to some palace-floor,

    Most gracious singer of high poems ! where

    ting, from the care

    Of c lips for more.

    And dost t tcoo poor

    For  think and bear

    to let thy music drop here unaware

    In folds of golden fulness at my door ?

    Look up and see t broken in,

    ts and os builders in the roof !

    My cricket c thy mandolin.

    her proof

    Of desolation ! thin

    t  sing . . . alone, aloof

 IX

    IX

    Can it be rigo give w I can give ?

    to let t beneatears

    As salt as mine, and he sighing years

    Re-sigive

    t smiles wo live

    For all tions ? O my fears,

    t t ! e are not peers,

    So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,

    t givers of sucs as mine are, must

    Be counted , alas !

    I  soil t,

    Nor breathy Venice-glass,

    Nor give t.

    Beloved, I only love t it pass.

 Ladys Yes, The

    quot;Yes,quot; I ans night;

    quot;No,quot; this morning, Sir, I say.

    Colours seen by candlelight,

    ill not look the same by day.

    ,

    Lamps above, and laughs below---

    Love me sounded like a jest,

    Fit for Yes or fit for No.

    Call me false, or call me free---

    Vo may shine,

    No man on your face shall see

    Any grief for change on mine.

    Yet th---

    time to dance is not to woo---

    ooer ligroth---

    Scorn of me recoils on you.

    Learn to h

    Nobly, as thing is high;

    Bravely, as for life and death---

    ity.

    Lead ive boards,

    Point o tarry skies,

    Guard ruthful words,

    Pure from courtsteries.

    By your trutrue---

    Ever true, as wives of yore---

    And o you,

    ShALL be Yes for evermore.

 Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, The

    the breaking waves dashed high

    On a stern and rock-bound coast,

    And t a stormy sky,

    t brancost;

    And t hung dark

    ter oer,

    heir bark

    On the wild New England shore.

    Not as the conqueror comes,

    true-ed, came;

    Not irring drums,

    And trumpet t sings of fame;

    Not as the flying come,

    In silence and in fear, -

    ts gloom

    ity cheer.

    Amidst torm they sang,

    And tars he sea;

    And the dim woods rang

    to the free.

    the ocean-eagle soared

    From  by te waves foam,

    And t roared -

    their welcome home!

    th hoary hair

    Amidst t pilgrim band:

    o here,

    Aheir childhoods land?

    there was womans fearless eye,

    Lit by ruth;

    there was manhoods brow serenely high,

    And t of youth.

    soughus afar?

    Brighe mine?

    the spoils of war? -

    t a faiths pure shrine!

    Ay, call it holy ground,

    t trod!

    t unstained hey found -

    Freedom to worship God!

 Look, The

    ter. Ay, no word,

    No gesture of reproache heavens serene

    tice, did not lean

    t he forsaken Lord

    Looked only, on traitor. None record

    t look hose who have seen

    ronged lovers loving th-pang keen,

    Or pale-cyrs smiling to a sword,

    t-call.

    And Peter, from t of blasphemy--

    I never knehis man --did quail and fall

    As knoraig GOD; and turned free

    And  out speeche face of all

    And filled tterly.

 Lord Walters Wife

    I

    But he yew,

    And he sea-blue.

    II

    Because I fear you, oo fair,

    And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.

    III

    O, ss are quickly undone,

    And too mucy, I reckon, is not too much sun.

    IV

    Yet fareal at times.

    I value your er, he limes.

    V

    O, shrough a fence:

    If tter? wense?

    VI

    But I, her, when love was free,

    to love her alone, alone, who alone from afar loves me.

    VII

    , sold.

    ill you voo be safe from tuesday, and t will hold?

    VIII

    But you, er, a young child, who was laid

    In your lap to be pure; so I leave you: t;

    IX

    O, s of the way;

    And Dora, tay.

    X

    At which he rose up in his anger,--hy now, you no longer are fair!

    al, but ugly and eful, I swear.

    XI

    At w in hese men overnice,

    virtuous is frankly put on by a vice.

    XII

    her eyes blazed upon him--And you! You bring us your vices so near

    t  to hear!<dfn>h£ô£ô£ð://£÷w£÷?£¹£¹lib?£îe£ô</dfn>

    XIII

    reason  rigo your soul from my life,--

    to find me so fair as a woman? hy, sir, I am pure, and a wife.

    XIV

    Is tar too fair up above you? It burns you not. Dare you imply

    I brusar does, wer  me as high?

    XV

    If a man finds a oo fair, ed too much

    to use unlaal. thank you for such?

    XVI

    too fair?--not unless you misuse us! and surely if, once in a while,

    You attain to it, straigoo fair, but too vile.

    XVII

    A moment,--I pray your attention!--I have a poor word in my head

    I must utter, tom  it doter unsaid.

    XVIII

    You greo impertinence, once when I showed you a ring.

    You kissed my fan ter! Ive broken thing.

    XIX

    You did me to be moved at my side nohen

    In to beasts and some men.

    XX

    Loves a virtue for e as the snow on high hills,

    And immortal as every great soul is t struggles, endures, and fulfils.

    XXI

    I love my alter profoundly,--you, Maude, tered a week,

    For t is it--an eyebroill, a mole on the cheek?

    XXII

    And since, o stoop to t

    About crimes irresistable, virtues t sray and supplant.

    XXIII

    I determined to prove to yourself t,  dream or avow

    By illusion, you ed precisely no more of me than you have now.

    XXIV

    tand, if you can,

    t the palm of a man.

    XXV

    Drop   you a scar--

    You take us for s, I tell you, and not for the women we are.

    XXVI

    You  ter! And so at the end

    I vo  be mulcted, by me, in the hand of a friend.

    XXVII

    you indeed? e are quits ter, be mine!

    Come, Dora, my darling, my angel, and o ask o dine.

 Meaning Of The Look, The

    I t look of C migo say--

    ter ! art tone

    last must break my  upon

    For all Gods co his high angels may

    Guard my foot better ? Did I yesterday

    as, my beloved, t they should run

    Quick to deny me neathe morning sun ?

    And do t, betray ?

    t

    A late contrition, but no bootless fear !

    For w,

    t not be denied, as I am here;

    My voice to God and angels stest,

    Because I KNO t him be clear.

 Minstrelsy

    For ever, since my childish looks

    Could rest on Natures pictured books;

    For ever, since my congue

    Could name themes our bards have sung;

    So long, tness of their singing

    o me a rapture bringing!

    Yet ask me not the reason why

    I  in minstrelsy.

    I kno much whereof I sing,

    Is s for vanishing;

    I kno summers flower and leaf

    And shine and shade are very brief,

    And t t ten, may,

    Before thed in clay! --

    I do not knohe reason why

    I  in minstrelsy.

    A fehere are, whose smile and praise

    My minstrel hope, would kindly raise:

    But, of th may impress

    tness;

    h resign,

    And heed no more a song of mine. --

    Ask not, ask not the reason why

    I  in minstrelsy.

    test song t minstrels sing,

    ill c Joy to tarrying;

    t bay t earth can grow,

    ill ser not in burning woe;

    A t cheer,

    e t aye is dear! --

    Is there, alas! no reason why

    I  in minstrelsy.

    I do not knourf is green

    Beneat-dropping sheen,

    Yet asks not w deeper hue

    Dots tender leaves renew; --

    And I, like-minded, am content,

    o my soul is sent,

    to question not the reason why

    I  in minstrelsy.

    Years pass -- my life hem shall pass:

    And soon, t in the grass

    And summer bird, shall louder sing

    trels string.

    Ohe dear and few,

    Recall ruthey knew;

    to question why

    S in minstrelsy!

 Mother and Poet

    I.

    Dead ! One of t by t,

    And one of t in t by the sea.

    Dead ! bot at t

    And are ing a great song for Italy free,

    Let none look at me !

    II.

    Yet I ess only last year,

    And good at my art, for a woman, men said ;

    But this, who is agonized here,

    -- t sea and  sea rhyme on in her head

    For ever instead.

    III.

    art can a  ? Oh, vain !

    art is s, but ing

    iteet the pain ?

    A ! you rong as you pressed,

    And I proud, by t test.

    IV.

    arts for a o hold on her knees

    Boto feel all t,

    Cling, strangle a little ! to sew by degrees

    And broider t little coat ;

    to dream and to doat.

    V.

    to teac stings them indeed

    Speak plain try. I taug,

    t a countrys a t need.

    I prated of liberty, rig

    tyrant cast out.

    VI.

    And wiful eyes ! ...

    I exulted ; nay, let t the wheels

    Of t. But the surprise

    s quite alone ! then one kneels !

    God, he house feels !

    VII.

    At first, ters moiled

    ith my kisses, -- of camp-life and glory, and how

    to be spoiled

    In return would fan off every fly from my brow

    itheir green laurel-bough.

    VIII.

    triump turin : `Ancona was free !

    73

    And some one came out of treet,

    itone, to say someto me.

    My Guido  ,

    reet.

    IX.

    I bore it ; friends soothed me ; my grief looked sublime

    As taly. One boy remained

    to be leant on and ime

    greal, wrained

    to t he had gained.

    X.

    And letters still came, ser, sadder, more strong,

    rit no in one  to faint, --

    One loved me for th me ere long :

    And Viva l Italia ! -- ,

    .quot;

    XI.

    My Nanni would add, `he was safe, and aware

    Of a presence t turned off t

    It was Guido  I could bear,

    And e dispossessed,

    to live on for t.quot;

    XII.

    On elegraph line

    S smoot nea : -- S.

    tell  ` mine,

    No voice says quot;My mot; again to me.  !

    You t ?

    XIII.

    Are souls straig, dizzy h heaven,

    tions, conceive not of woe ?

    I t. too lately forgiven

    t Love and Sorrow which reconciled so

    the Above and Below.

    XIV.

    O C of t the dark

    to ther ! consider, I pray,

    and desolate, mark,

    being Cs, die urned away,

    And no last o say !

    XV.

    Bot ts out of nature. e all

    riots, yet eac always keep one.

    to a wall ;

    And,  done

    74

    If we  a son ?

    XVI.

    Aas taken, hen ?

    s no more at

    Of t of men ?

    ort

    t ?

    XVII.

    heir new jubilee,

    akes all s we, green, and red,

    ry from mountain to sea,

    or alys crown on his head,

    (And I have my Dead) --

    XVIII.

    t mock me. Ah, ring your bells low,

    And burn your ligly ! My country is there,

    Above tar pricked by t peak of snow :

    My Italy s th my brave civic Pair,

    to disfranchise despair !

    XIX.

    Forgive me. Some h,

    And bite back their pain in self-scorn ;

    But tions  length

    Into wail suc on forlorn

    he man-child is born.

    XX.

    Dead ! One of t by t,

    And one of t in t by the sea.

    Bot

    You  a great song for your Italy free,

    Let none look at me !

    [turin, a poetess and patriot, w

    Ancona and Gaeta.]

 My Heart and I

    I.

    ENOUGired, my  and I.

    e sit beside tone thus,

    And wis name were carved for us.

    ts more tenderly

    types of the masons knife,

    As  life renehs life

    itired, my  and I.

    II.

    You see ired, my  and I.

    e dealt rusted men,

    And in our own blood drenche pen,

    As if suc fly.

    e oo straigunes end,

    e loved too true to keep a friend ;

    At last ired, my  and I.

    III.

    ired we feel, my  and I !

    e seem of no use in the world ;

    Our fancies hang grey and uncurled

    About mens eyes indifferently ;

    Our voice w

    You sleep; our tears are only  :

    do we  and I ?

    IV.

    So tired, so tired, my  and I !

    It  t old time

    he lime

    to c from the sky.

    `Dear love, youre looking tired, he said;

    I, smiling at him, shook my head :

    tis noired, my  and I.

    V.

    So tired, so tired, my  and I !

    takes me on his arm

    to fold me close and kiss me warm

    till each end in a sigh

    Of happy languor. Now, alone,

    e lean upon tone,

    Unc and I.

    VI.

    tired out we are, my  and I.

    Suppose t diadems

    to tempt us, crusted h loose gems

    Of po it try.

    e scarcely care to look at even

    A pretty child, or Gods blue heaven,

    e feel so tired, my  and I.

    VII.

    Yet w and I ?

    In t eart

    Is little room for t :

    Disdain them by

    And if before the days grew rough

    e once were loved, used, -- well enough,

    I t and I.

 My Letters! all dead paper. . . (Sonnet XXVIII)

    My Letters! all dead paper. . . (Sonnet XXVIII)

    My letters! all dead paper, mute and we!

    And yet they seem alive and quivering

    Against my tremulous ring

    And let tonight.

    to

    Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

    to come and touching,

    Yes I  for itamp;#8212;t. . .

    Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed

    As if Gods future t.

    ts ink has paled

    it my  t beat too fast.

    And thy words have ill availed

    If,  at last!

 On A Portrait Of Wordsworth

    ORDSORt the cloud

    Ebb audibly along tain-wind,

    t the rock, and show behind

    ting up to crowd

    ty. h forehead bowed

    And humble-lidded eyes, as one inclined

    Before t of his own mind,

    And very meek ions proud,

    takes ful place as poet-priest

    By tar, singing prayer and prayer

    to the higher heavens. A noble vision free

    Our  from t:

    No portrait th Academic air !

    t and ry.

 On A Portrait Of Wordsworth By B. R. Haydon

    On A Portrait Of ordsrong>

    ords the cloud

    Ebb audibly along tain-wind,

    t the rock, and show behind

    ting up to crowd

    ty. h forehead bowed

    And humble-lidded eyes, as one inclined

    Before t of his own mind,

    And very meek ions proud,

    takes ful place as poet-priest

    By tar, singing prayer and prayer

    to the higher heavens. A noble vision free

    Our  from t:

    No portrait th Academic air !

    t and ry.

 Only a Curl.

    I.

    FRIENDS of faces unknown and a land

    Unvisited over the sea,

    ell me and

    ithe hand

    o be looked at by me, --

    II.

    o ponder and say

    a father can do,

    it fello away

    Out of reache clay

    s press nearer than you.

    III.

    S, or run

    Into ears for relief ?

    O one, --

    Yet my arm s round my otle son,

    And Love kno of Grief.

    IV.

    And I feel  must be and is,

    hen God draws a new angel so

    to his,

    ith a murmur of music, you miss,

    And a rapture of light, you forgo.

    V.

    aring on at the door,

    he face of your angel flashed in,

    t its brightness, familiar before,

    Burns off from you ever the more

    For the dark of your sorrow and sin.

    VI.

    `God lent akes him, you sigh ;

    -- Nay, t me break h your pain :

    God s generous in giving, say I, --

    And thing which he gives, I deny

    t ake back again.

    VII.

    he gives. I appeal

    to all whe hour

    he body we feel

    Rent round us, -- s reveal

    t in power,

    VIII.

    And the babe cries ! -- has each of us known

    By apocalypse (God being there

    Full in nature) the child is our own,

    Life of life, love of love, moan of moan,

    times, everywhere.

    IX.

    he s ours and for ever. Believe,

    O father, look back

    to t loves assurance. to give

    Means  to tempt or deceive

    it in Benjamins sack.

    X.

    ent !

    hing given, -- be sure !

    God lend ?

    In emple, indignant

    And scourged ahose impure.

    XI.

    ; but gives to the end,

    As o t seem

    t , comprehend

    tis to add to it rather, -- amend,

    And finis up to your dream, --

    XII.

    Or keep, -- as a motoys

    too costly, though given by herself,

    till tiller from noise,

    And t for such joys,

    Kept over the shelf.

    XIII.

    So look up, friends ! you, who indeed

    piece

    Of trive for, must need

    Be more earnest thers are,--speed

    er, persist whey cease.

    XIV.

    You know here.

    t. tis easy for you

    to be drawn by a single gold hair

    Of t curl, from eartorm and despair,

    to the safe place above us. Adieu.

 Pain In Pleasure

    A t ay like a flower upon mine ,

    And dre ots like bees

    For multitude and t of snesses;

    rejoicing, I desired t

    Of tler, wo w

    Could lure t srees

    t I migs and please

    My soul so, al

    Of a weak mans vain wishes ! hile I spoke,

    t I called a flotle-rough

    ts, called bees, stung me to festering:

    Oertain (cried Reason as she woke)

    Your best and gladdest ts but long enough,

    And to sting !

 Past And Future

    MY future  copy fair my past

    On any leaf but heavens. Be fully done

    Supernal ill ! I  fain be one

    isfying t and breaking fast,

    Upon t at last

    Says no grace after meat. My wine has run

    Indeed out of my cup, and there is none

    to gat

    Scattered and trampled; yet I find some good

    In eartreams t bubble up

    Clear from tent until

    I sit ter food: --

    Dear C ! wage fills my cup,

    t wine spill

 Past and Future.

    MY future  copy fair my past

    On any leaf but heavens. Be fully done,

    Supernal ill ! I  fain be one

    isfying t and breaking fast

    Upon t, at last

    Saiter meat. My wine h run

    Indeed out of my cup, and there is none

    to gat

    Scattered and trampled ! Yet I find some good

    In eartreams t bubble up

    Clear from tent until

    I sit ter food.

    Dear C ! wage fills my cup,

    t wine spill.

 Patience Taught By Nature

    O DREARY life, we cry,  O dreary life !

    And still tions of the birds

    Sing the flocks and herds

    Serenely live wrife

    itrue purpose in us, as a knife

    Against wruggle ! Ocean girds

    Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards

    Unweary sweep, ch unworn, and rife

    Meek leaves drop year]y from t-trees

    to sed stars t pass

    In thou God of old,

    Grant me some smaller grace to these !--

    But so mucience as a blade of grass

    Groented t and cold.

 Perplexed Music

    EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds

    A dulcimer of patience in his hand,

    understand,

    Of God; will in rain unfolds

    In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds

    Fall on us wermand

    Our sanguine  back from the fancyland

    itingales in visionary wolds.

    e murmur  ain tune

    Or measured music in suces as these ?

    But angels, leaning from t,

    Are not so minded th won

    ted cadences,

    And, smiling doars, they whisper--

    SEEt.

 Poet And The Bird, The

    Said a people to a poet---quot; Go out from among us straightway!

    of divine.

    ttle fair broing in teways

    Makes fitter music to our ears t;

    t  out ingale ceased cing;

    quot;Noness done?quot;

    I cannot sing my eart ing,

    under sun.quot;

    t  out  there---

    to housand wails:---

    And,  there

    as only of ts song, and not tingales.

 Prisoner, The

    I count time by months and years

    Since last I felt t,

    And t breathings summer-

    Met mine upon my lips. Noh appears

    As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres

    Or ts of . Natures lute

    Sounds on, be,

    A strange o the prisoners ears,

    Dilated by tance, till the brain

    Gro feels too

    h a visionary pain,

    Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine

    Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden train

    Of sunlit ransfigured to Divine.

 Rosalinds Scroll

    I LEFt t, a c ,

    A woman scarce in years:

    I come to thee, a solemn corpse

    her feels nor fears.

    I o use in sighs;

    ts on mine eyes

    to seal tears.

    Look on me hine own calm look:

    I meet it calm as thou.

    No look of this smile,

    Or break thy sinful vow:

    I tell t my poor scornd

    Is of t:

    It cannot vex thee now.

    I ing sob

    hen passions course was free;

    I  lips

    In the anguish none could see;

    t, S--

    But I only prayd for thee.

    Go to! I pray for thee no more:

    tongue is still;

    Its folded fingers point to heaven,

    But point tiff and chill:

    No farther woe

    he sin below

    Its tranquil  to thrill.

    I che livings prayer,

    And tness,

    to  thy soul a cry

    hich God shall hear and bless!

    Lest heavens own palm droop in my hand,

    And pale among ts I stand,

    A saint companionless.

 Runaway Slave at Pilgrims Point, The

    I.

    I stand on the shore

    Of t we pilgrims bended knee,

    urned to ancestor,

    And God y.

    I , my skin is as dark,

    I bend my knee dohis mark . . .

    I look on the sea.

    II.

    O pilgrim-souls, I speak to you!

    I see you come out proud and slow

    From ts pale as dew. . .

    And round me and round me ye go!

    O pilgrims, I have gasped and run

    All nighe whips of one

    ho in your names works sin and woe.

    III.

    And t t I would come

    And kneel  before,

    And feel your souls around me hum

    In undertone to the oceans roar;

    And lift my black face, my black hand,

    o curse this land

    Ye blessed in freedoms evermore.

    IV.

    I am black, I am black;

    And yet God made me, they say.

    But if he did so, smiling back

    his work away

    Under t of e creatures,

    it tures

    Migrodden again to clay.

    V.

    And yet hings

    to be glad and merry as light.

    ttle dark bird sits and sings;

    tream ripples out of sight;

    And t in the safe morass,

    And test stars are made to pass

    Oer t night.

    VI.

    But we who are dark, we are dark!

    Aars!

    About our souls in care and cark

    Our blackness ss like prison bars:

    the poor souls crouch so far behind,

    t never a comfort can they find

    By reache prison-bars.

    VII.

    Indeed, he sky, . . .

    t great smootretc

    On all herly,

    to bless t,

    his low place,

    All opened straigo his face

    Into ternity.

    VIII.

    And still Gods suns,

    t, they make us cold,

    As if  black and lost:

    And ts and birds, in wood and fold,

    Do fear and take us for very men!

    Could t of the glen

    Look into my eyes and be bold?

    IX.

    I am black, I am black!--

    But, once, I laughed in girlish glee;

    For one of my colour stood in track

    me--

    And tender and full he look he gave:

    Could a slave look so at another slave?--

    I look at the sea.

    X.

    And from t s grew

    As free as if unsold, unbought:

    Orong enougwo

    to conquer t!

    the drivers drove us day by day;

    e did not mind,  one way,

    And no better a liberty sought.

    XI.

    In the canes,

    ;I love youquot; as he passed:

    he rains,

    I  fast:

    As ,

    the hurricanes.

    XII.

    I sang ead of a song;

    Over and over I sang his name--

    Up along

    My various notes; the same!

    I sang it lo the slave-girls near

    Mig they could hear,

    It was only a name.

    XIII.

    I look on the sea--

    e o love, and to pray,--

    Yes, thee,

    t thou say.

    Coldly tst behe sun!

    And now I cry w one,

    to-day?--

    XIV.

    e were black, we were black!

    e o love and bliss:

    marvel, if eacurned to lack?

    t of his,--

    to touch

    ! . . . not much,

    Ye pilgrim-souls, . . . this!

    XV.

    rong, followed by a deeper wrong!

    Mere griefs too good for such as I.

    So te men broughe shame ere long

    to strangle the sob of my agony.

    t leave me for my dull

    et eyes!--it oo merciful

    to let me ears and die.

    XVI.

    I am black, I am black!--

    I wore a c

    An amulet t oo slack,

    And, in my unrest, could not rest:

    t moaning, cher,

    One to anoto another,

    Until all ended for t:

    XVII.

    For ell you low . . . Iow . . .

    I am black, you see,--

    And the babe who lay on my bosom so,

    as far too oo we for me;

    As o pray

    Beside me at c yesterday;

    tears had washed a place for my knee.

    XVIII.

    My own, own c bear

    to look in  was so we.

    I covered here;

    I covered ight:

    And ruggled, as  be,

    For te ced y--

    ed er right.

    XIX.

    ,

    tle feet t never grew--

    ruck t, as it ,

    Against my  to break it through.

    I might have sung and made him mild--

    But I dared not sing to te-faced child

    the only song I knew.

    XX.

    I pulled the kerchief very close:

    see the sun, I swear,

    More, than now he does

    From bets of the mango . . . where

    . . . I know wher

    Do o look at one another,

    hen one is black and one is fair.

    XXI.

    single glance I had

    Of my cell you all,

    I sa made me mad . . .

    ters look, t used to fall

    On my soul like his lash . . . or worse!

    And so, to save it from my curse,

    I ted it round in my shawl.

    XXII.

    And rembled from foot to head,

    o foot;

    till, after a time, ead

    too suddenly still and mute.

    I felt, beside, a stiffening cold, . . .

    I dared to lift up just a fold . . .

    As in lifting a leaf of t.

    XXIII.

    But my fruit . . . here, had been

    (I laugo t at this hour! . . .)

    Your fine we angels, who have seen

    Nearest t of Gods power, . . .

    And plucked my fruit to make them wine,

    And sucked t child of mine,

    As the flower.

    XXIV.

    rick of te!

    te c so.

    I said not a , day and night,

    I carried to and fro;

    And it lay on my  like a stone . . . as chill.

    --t as much as he will:

    I am cold, t h ago.

    XXV.

    From te mans ,

    I carried ttle body on,

    ts arms did round us s,

    And silence trees did run:

    tion as I ,--

    tood too onis,--

    t on hrone.

    XXVI.

    My little body, kerc,

    I bore it on t . . . on:

    And  ired at last,

    I scooped a he moon.

    t-tops the angels far,

    ite sar,

    Did point and mock at w was done.

    XXVII.

    Yet , . . .

    Eart me and my baby, strewed,

    All, co black earte, . . .

    A dark che dark,--ensued

    Some comfort, and my  grew young:

    I sate dohere and sung

    t in my maidenhood.

    XXVIII.

    And two were reconciled,

    te chus:

    For, as I sang it, soft and wild

    the same song, more melodious,

    Rose from te!

    It ,

    to join th of us.

    XXIX.

    I look on the sky!

    anchored lay,

    th gloriously;

    But ts have slid away

    t streaks of the morn.

    My face is black, but it glares h a scorn

    meet by day.

    XXX.

    Aead, ter sons!

    A in a ring--

    Keep off! I brave you all at once--

    I t sting!

    You  nest, I think:

    Did you never stand still in your triumph, and shrink

    From troke of her wounded wing?

    XXXI.

    (Man, drop t stone you dared to lift!--)

    I ,

    Eac,

    A little corpse as safely at rest

    As mine in t she

    May keep live babies on her knee,

    And sing t.

    XXXll.

    I am not mad: I am black.

    I see you staring in my face--

    I knoaring, shrinking back--

    Ye are born of ton-race:

    And the free America:

    And t . . . (I prove w I say)

    Ropes tied me up o the flogging-place.

    XXXIII.

    You t a sound!

    I he sun.

    I only cursed them all around,

    As softly as I might have done

    My very own chese sands

    Up to tains, lift your hands,

    O slaves, and end w I begun!

    XXXIV.

    anshose!

    For in t

    two kinds of men in adverse rows,

    Eac

    ts body fair;

    hile hE sees gaping everywhere

    Our countless  pay no debt.

    XXXV.

    Our . Your we men

    Are, after all, not gods indeed,

    Nor able to make Cs again

    Do good h bleeding. e who bleed . . .

    (Stand off!) we  in our loss!

    e are too heavy for our cross,

    And fall and crush you and your seed.

    XXXVI.

    I fall, I s the sky:

    the clouds are breaking on my brain;

    I am floated along, as if I should die

    Of libertys exquisite pain--

    In te cing for me

    In th-dark where we may kiss and agree,

    e men, I leave you all curse-free

    In my broken s disdain!

 Seraph and Poet, The

    t

    God-One, and in the Seven,

    And e

    hers

    arm -borns slumber in t

    t sings upon th grave-riven,

    Before ty world, soon self-forgiven

    For wronging

    From s.

    Even so,

    Sing, seraphe glory ! heaven is high;

    Sing, poet h is low:

    the universes inward voices cry

    Amen  to either song of joy and woe:

    Sing, serap,--sing on equally !

 Sonnet 01 - 05

    Sonnet 01 - I t once us rong>

    I

    I t once us had sung

    Of t years, the dear and wished-for years,

    ho each one in a gracious hand appears

    to bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

    And, as I mused it in ique tongue,

    I saears,

    t, sad years, the melancholy years,

    turns had flung

    A sraightway I was ware,

    So weeping, ic Shape did move

    Behe hair:

    And a voice said in mastery, wrove,¡ª

    Guess nohere,

    t Deat Love.

    Sonnet 02 - But only trong>

    II

    But only three in all Gods universe

    said,¡ªhimself, beside

    tening! and replied

    One of us . . . t he curse

    So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce

    My sig if I had died,

    ts, placed there, would have signified

    Less absolute exclusion. Nay is worse

    From God thers, O my friend!

    Men could not part us heir worldly jars,

    Nor tempests bend;

    Our oucain-bars:

    And,  the end,

    e s voer for tars.

    Sonnet 03 - Unlike are rong>

    III

    Unlike are we, unlike, O princely !

    Unlike our uses and our destinies.

    Our ministering two angels look surprise

    On one anotrike at

    t

    A guest for queens to social pageantries,

    iter eyes

    tears even can make mine, to play t

    Of c  to do

    ittice-lig me,

    A poor, tired, hrough

    tree?

    the dew,amp;mdash;

    And Deat dig these agree.

    Sonnet 04 - t to some palace-floor

    IV

    t to some palace-floor,

    Most gracious singer of high poems! where

    ting, from the care

    Of c lips for more.

    And dost t tcoo poor

    For  think and bear

    to let thy music drop here unaware

    In folds of golden fulness at my door?

    Look up and see t broken in,

    ts and os builders in the roof!

    My cricket c thy mandolin.

    her proof

    Of desolation! thin

    t  sing . . . alone, aloof

    Sonnet 05 - I lift my  up solemnly

    V

    I lift my  up solemnly,

    As once Electra her sepulchral urn,

    And, looking in turn

    t t. Behold and see

    a great heap of grief lay hid in me,

    And he red wild sparkles dimly burn

    t in scorn

    Could tread t to darkness utterly,

    It mig if instead

    t beside me for to blow

    t up, . . . thine head,

    O my Beloved,  shee so,

    t none of all the fires shall scorch and shred

    tand farthen! go.

 Sonnet 06 - 10

    Sonnet 06 - Go from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    VI

    Go from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    hy shadow. Nevermore

    Alone upon threshold of my door

    Of individual life, I shall command

    t my hand

    Serenely in the sunshine as before,

    it t which I forboreamp;mdash;

    touc land

    Doom takes to part us, leaves t in mine

    it beat double.  I do

    And he wine

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue

    God for myself,  name of thine,

    And sees ears of two.

    Sonnet 07 - trong>

    VII

    think,

    Since first I steps of thy soul

    Move still, oill, beside me, as tole

    Bet me and ter brink

    Of obvious deat to sink,

    as caugo love, and taughe whole

    Of life in a new rhe cup of dole

    God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,

    And praise its sness, S, hee anear.

    try, heaven, are changed away

    For here or here;

    And te and song . . . loved yesterday,

    (the singing angels know) are only dear

    Because t in hey say.

    Sonnet 08 -  can I give trong>

    VIII

    can I give thee back, O liberal

    And princely giver, w broughe gold

    And purple of t, unstained, untold,

    And laid tside of the-wall

    For suco take or leave hal,

    In unexpected largesse? am I cold,

    Ungrateful, t for t manifold

    s, I render not all?

    Not so; not cold,amp;mdas very poor instead.

    Ask God ears have run

    t so dead

    And pale a stuff, it  fitly done

    to give to thy head.

    Go fart it serve to trample on.

    Sonnet 09 - Can it be rigo give rong>

    IX

    Can it be rigo give w I can give?

    to let t beneatears

    As salt as mine, and he sighing years

    Re-sigive

    t smiles wo live

    For all tions? O my fears,

    t t! e are not peers,

    So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,

    t givers of sucs as mine are, must

    Be counted , alas!

    I  soil t,

    Nor breathy Venice-glass,

    Nor give t.

    Beloved, I only love t it pass.

    Sonnet 10 - Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed

    X

    Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed

    And ation. Fire is bright,

    Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light

    Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:

    And love is fire. And w need

    I love t

    I stand transfigured, glorified aright,

    it proceed

    Out of my face tohing low

    In love,  creatures

    s while loving so.

    And ures

    Of self, and show

    great work of Love enures.

 Sonnet 11-15

    Sonnet 11 - And to love can be desert

    XI

    And to love can be desert,

    I am not all unhy. Cheeks as pale

    As trembling knees t fail

    to bear t,amp;mdash;

    trel-life t once

    to climb Aornus, and can scarce avail

    to pipe no tingale

    A melanc

    to t is plain

    I am not of thy place!

    And yet, because I love tain

    From t same love ting grace,

    to live on still in love, and yet in vain,amp;mdash;

    to bless t renounce to thy face.

    Sonnet 12 - Indeed t

    XII

    Indeed t,

    And o brow,

    Doth a ruby large enow

    to dra,amp;mdash;

    to ttermost,

    I s love  thou

    set me an example, shown me how,

    t eyes h mine were crossed,

    And love called love. And t speak

    Of love even, as a good thing of my own:

    tc and weak,

    And placed it by throne,amp;mdash;

    And t I love (O soul,  be meek!)

    Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

    Sonnet 13 - And  to speecrong>

    XIII

    And  to speech

    thee, finding words enough,

    And orc, whe winds are rough,

    Beto cast light on each?amp;mdash;

    I drop it at t. I cannot teach

    My o  so far off

    From myselfamp;mdas I shee proof

    In words, of love  of reach.

    Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

    Commend my o thy belief,amp;mdash;

    Seeing t I stand unwon, however wooed,

    And rend t of my life, in brief,

    By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

    Lest one touc convey its grief

    Sonnet 14 - If t love me, let it be for nougrong>

    XIV

    If t love me, let it be for nought

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say

    I love her for her smileamp;mdash;her lookamp;mdash;her way

    Of speaking gently,amp;mdasrick of t

    t falls in es brought

    A sense of pleasant ease on such a dayamp;mdash;

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    Be c,

    May be unwrougher love me for

    tys wiping my cheeks dry,amp;mdash;

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    t long, and lose thereby!

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    t love on, ternity.

    Sonnet 15 - Accuse me not, beseec I rong>

    XV

    Accuse me not, beseec I wear

    too calm and sad a face in front of thine;

    For  shine

    it on our brow and hair.

    On me t ing care,

    As on a bee s in a crystalline;

    Since sorrow  me safe in loves divine,

    And to spread er air

    ere most impossible failure, if I strove

    to fail so. But I look on theeamp;mdash;

    Behe end of love,

    hearing oblivion beyond memory;

    As one ws and gazes from above,

    Over to tter sea.

 Sonnet 16 - 20

    Sonnet 16 - And yet, because t so

    XVI

    And yet, because t so,

    Because t more noble and like a king,

    t prevail against my fears and fling

    till my  shall grow

    too close against t o know

    shook when alone. hy, conquering

    May prove as lordly and complete a thing

    In lifting upward, as in crushing low!

    And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword

    to one ws h,

    Even so, Beloved, I at last record,

    rife. If te me forth,

    I rise above abasement at the word.

    Make to enlarge my h.

    Sonnet 17 - My poet, t touces

    XVII

    My poet, t touces

    God set between er and Before,

    And strike up and strike off the general roar

    Of t floats

    In a serene air purely. Antidotes

    Of medicated music, answering for

    Mankinds forlornest uses, t pour

    From to tes

    to suco  on thine.

    ,  t use?

    A o sing by gladly? or a fine

    Sad memory, o interfuse?

    A so sing¡ªof palm or pine?

    A grave, on  from singing? Choose.

    Sonnet 18 - I never gave a lock of rong>

    XVIII

    I never gave a lock of hair away

    to a man, Dearest, except to thee,

    fully,

    I ring out to th and say

    take it. My day of yout yesterday;

    My o my foots glee,

    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,

    As girls do, any more: it only may

    Now swo pale cears,

    taug hangs aside

    trick. I t the funeral-shears

    ould take t, but Love is justified,¡ª

    take it those years,

    t here when she died.

    Sonnet 19 - to s mercrong>

    XIX

    to s merchandise;

    I barter curl for curl upon t mart,

    And from my poets foreo my

    Receive tweighs argosies,¡ª

    As purply black, as erst to Pindars eyes

    tresses gloomed at

    te Muse-broerpart, . . .

    the bay-crowns shade, Beloved, I surmise,

    Still lingers on t is so black!

    t of smooth,

    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,

    And lay t wh;

    , as on to lack

    No natural  till mine groh.

    Sonnet 20 - Beloved, my Beloved, wrong>

    XX

    Beloved, my Beloved, whink

    t t in the world a year ago,

    time I sat alone he snow

    And saprint, he silence sink

    No moment at t, link by link,

    ent counting all my c so

    t any blow

    Struck by thus I drink

    Of lifes great cup of wonder ! onderful,

    Never to feel t

    it or speech,¡ªnor ever cull

    Some prescience of te

    t gros are as dull,

    guess Gods presence out of sight.

 Sonnet 21 - 25

    Sonnet 21 - Say over again, and yet once over again

    XXI

    Say over again, and yet once over again,

    t t love me. ted

    S treat it,

    Remember, never to the hill or plain,

    Valley and  rain

    Comes ted.

    Beloved, I, amid ted

    By a doubtful spirit-voice, in t doubts pain

    Cry, Speak once moreamp;mdas! ho can fear

    too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,

    too many flohe year?

    Say t love me, love me, love meamp;mdasoll

    terance!amp;mdash;only minding, Dear,

    to love me also in silence hy soul.

    Sonnet 22 - and up erect and strong

    XXII

    and up erect and strong,

    Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

    Until to fire

    At eit,amp;mdas bitter wrong

    Can to us, t we s long

    Be ented? ting higher,

    the angels would press on us and aspire

    to drop some golden orb of perfect song

    Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

    Rat

    Contrarious moods of men recoil away

    And isolate pure spirits, and permit

    A place to stand and love in for a day,

    it.

    Sonnet 23 - Is it indeed so? If I lay rong>

    XXIII

    Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,

    ouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?

    And hee more coldly shine

    Because of grave-damps falling round my head?

    I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read

    t so in tter. I am thineamp;mdash;

    But . . . so muco thy wine

    remble ? tead

    Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.

    the on me!

    As brig count it strange,

    For love, to give up acres and degree,

    I yield thy sake, and exchange

    My near s view of hee!

    Sonnet 24 - Let trong>

    XXIV

    Let the worlds sharpness, like a clasping knife,

    S in upon itself and do no harm

    In t and warm,

    And let us rife

    After tting. Life to lifeamp;mdash;

    I lean upon t alarm,

    And feel as safe as guarded by a charm

    Against tab of worldlings, who if rife

    Are o injure. Very ill

    the lilies of our lives may reassure

    ts, accessible

    Alone to  drop not fewer,

    Groraig of mans reache hill.

    God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

    Sonnet 25 - A , Beloved, rong>

    XXV

    A , Beloved, have I borne

    From year to year until I sahy face,

    And sorroer sorroook the place

    Of all tural joys as lightly worn

    As tringed pearls, eaced in its turn

    By a beating  at dance-time. hopes apace

    ere co long despairs, till Gods own grace

    Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn

    My . t bid me bring

    And let it drop ado

    Deep being! Fast it sinkething

    s oure dotate,

    , mediating

    Bet tars and te.

 Sonnet 26 - 30

    Sonnet 26 - I lived rong>

    XXVI

    I lived h visions for my company

    Instead of men and women, years ago,

    And found tle mates, nor t to know

    A ser music to me.

    But soon trailing purple  free

    Of t, tes did silent grow,

    And I myself gre and blind below

    t comeamp;mdaso be,

    Beloved, s,

    tter, yet the same,

    As river-er o fonts),

    Met in t thee overcame

    My soul isfaction of all s:

    Because Gods gifts put mans best dreams to shame.

    Sonnet 27 - My oed me

    XXVII

    My oed me

    From t of earthrown,

    And, in bet ts, blown

    A life-breatill the forehead hopefully

    S again, as all the angels see,

    Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,

    to me whe world was gone,

    And I whee!

    I find trong, and glad.

    As one wands in dewless asphodel

    Looks backedious time he had

    In th bosom-swell,

    Make ness, he good and bad,

    t Love, as strong as Deatrieves as well.

    Sonnet 28 - My letters! all dead paper, mute and rong>

    XXVIII

    My letters! all dead paper, mute and we!

    And yet they seem alive and quivering

    Against my tremulous ring

    And let to-night.

    to

    Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

    to come and touching,

    Yet I  for it!amp;mdas . . .

    Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed

    As if Gods future t.

    ts ink has paled

    it my  t beat too fast.

    And thy words have ill availed

    If,  at last!

    Sonnet 29 - I ts do trong>

    XXIX

    I ts do twine and bud

    About t a tree,

    Put out broad leaves, and soon t to see

    Except traggling green whe wood.

    Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood

    I  s instead of thee

    dearer, better! Ratantly

    Renerong tree should,

    Rustle t trunk all bare,

    And let thee

    Drop , stered, everywhere!

    Because, in to see and hee

    And breathy shadow a new air,

    I do not too near thee.

    Sonnet 30 - I see tears to-nigrong>

    XXX

    I see tears to-night,

    And yet to-day I sahee smiling. how

    Refer t thou

    Or I, we

    Amid ted joy and te

    May so fall flat, e brow,

    On tar-stair. I hy voice and vow,

    Perplexed, uncertain, since t out of sight,

    As he choirs Amen.

    Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all

    ted when

    too ve liged my ideal,

    For my souls eyes? ill t light come again,

    As noears comeamp;mdas and real?

 Sonnet 31 - 35

    Sonnet 31 - t! all is said  a rong>

    XXXI

    t! all is said  a word.

    I sit beneathy looks, as children do

    In t tremble through

    their happy eyelids from an unaverred

    Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred

    In t last doubt! and yet I cannot rue

    t, but t wo

    S stand unministered

    By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,

    thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,

    it serenely interpose:

    Brood dohy divine sufficiencies

    ts hose,

    Like callo desert to the skies.

    Sonnet 32 - t time t trong>

    XXXII

    t time t th

    to love me, I looked foro the moon

    to slacken all too soon

    And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.

    Quick-loving s, I t, may quickly loathe;

    And, looking on myself, I seemed not one

    For suc-of-tune

    orn viol, a good singer h

    to spoil ce,

    Is laid do t ill-sounding note.

    I did not  I placed

    A  strains may float

    Neater-ruments defaced,amp;mdash;

    And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

    Sonnet 33 - Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me rong>

    XXXIII

    Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear

    to run at, when a child,

    From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,

    to glance up in some face t proved me dear

    its eyes. I miss the clear

    Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled

    Into the music of heavens undefiled,

    Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,

    th

    Be o te.

    Gato complete th,

    And catce.

    Yes, call me by t name,amp;mdasruth,

    it,  .

    Sonnet 34 - it, I said, Ill ansrong>

    XXXIV

    it, I said, Ill anshee

    As t call me by my nameamp;mdash;

    Lo, the same,

    Perplexed and ruffled by lifes strategy?

    old ily

    I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game,

    to run and ans came

    At play last moment, and  on h me

    through my obedience. hen I answer now,

    I drop a grave t, break from solitude;

    Yet still my  goes to theeamp;mdash;ponder howamp;mdash;

    Not as to a single good, but all my good!

    Lay t, best one, and allow

    t no c could run fast as this blood.

    Sonnet 35 - If I leave all for t trong>

    XXXV

    If I leave all for t thou exchange

    And be all to me? Shall I never miss

    alk and blessing and the common kiss

    t comes to eacurn, nor count it strange,

    o drop on a new range

    Of his?

    Nay,  t place by me which is

    Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change?

    t s . If to conquer love, ried,

    to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove;

    For grief indeed is love and grief beside.

    Alas, I o love.

    Yet love meamp;mdas t wide,

    And fold  hy dove.

 Sonnet 36 - 40

    Sonnet 36 -  first and loved, I did not build

    XXXVI

    first and loved, I did not build

    Upon t  mean

    to last, a love set pendulous between

    Sorrohrilled,

    Distrusting every lig seemed to gild

    to overlean

    A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

    And strong since t God has willed

    A still reneroth . . .

    Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

    tual kiss drop doh

    As an unohe lips being cold.

    And Love, be false! if o keep one oath,

    Must lose one joy, by ar foretold.

    Sonnet 37 - Pardon, o my soul srong>

    XXXVII

    Pardon, o my soul should make,

    Of all t strong divineness which I know

    For thee, an image only so

    Formed of t to s and break.

    It is t distant years ake

    ty, recoiling h a blow,

    o undergo

    t and dread, and blindly to forsake

    ty of likeness and distort

    t love to a erfeit:

    As if a s,

    o commemorate,

    S a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

    And vibrant tail, emple-gate.

    Sonnet 38 - First time  only kissed

    XXXVIII

    First time  only kissed

    te;

    And ever since, it grew more clean and we,

    Sloo ings, quick s O,

    I could not ,

    t first kiss. t

    t, and soughe forehead, and half missed,

    he hair. O beyond meed!

    t he chrism of love, which loves own crown,

    itifying sness, did precede.

    third upon my lips was folded down

    In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

    I have been proud and said, My love, my own.

    Sonnet 39 - Because t t trong>

    XXXIX

    Because t t the grace

    to look this mask of me

    (Against hus blanchingly

    itrue face,

    tness of lifes race,amp;mdash;

    Because t to see,

    t same souls distracting lethargy,

    tient angel ing for a place

    In the new heavens,amp;mdash;because nor sin nor woe,

    Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighborhood,

    Nor all o go,

    Nor all wired of all, self-viewed,amp;mdash;

    Not, teach me so

    to pour out gratitude, as t, good!

    Sonnet 40 - Orong>

    XL

    Ohis world of ours!

    I  gainsay love, called love forsooth.

    I alked in my early youth,

    And since, not so long back but t the flowers

    till. Mussulmans and Giaours

    t a smile, and h

    For any ooth

    Slips on t if, after frequent showers,

    t so much

    ill turn to e

    Or else to oblivion. But t not such

    A lover, my Beloved! t

    to bring souls to touch,

    And t soon e.

 Sonnet 41 - 44

    Sonnet 41 - I ts

    XLI

    I ts,

    ito all

    tle near the prison-wall

    to s louder parts

    Ere t ons

    Or temples occupation, beyond call.

    But thou, who, in my voices sink and fall

    ook it, t Arts

    Orument didst drop do t

    to  I said betears, . . .

    Instruct me o to s

    My souls full meaning into future years,

    t t utterance, and salute

    Love t endures, from Life t disappears!

    Sonnet 42 - My future  copy fair my past

    XLII

    My future  copy fair my pastamp;mdash;

    I e t once; and t my side

    My ministering life-angel justified

    t

    to te turned at last,

    And tead, sa unallied

    to angels in tried

    By natural ills, received t fast,

    t, my pilgrims staff

    Gave out green leaves h morning dews impearled.

    I seek no copy no half:

    Leave h long musing curled,

    And e me neures epigraph,

    New angel mine, unhe world!

    Sonnet 43 -  me count trong>

    XLIII

    me count the ways.

    I love to t

    My soul can reac of sight

    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    I love to the level of everydays

    Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

    I love trive for Right;

    I love turn from Praise.

    I love t to use

    In my old griefs, and h.

    I love to lose

    it saints,amp;mdash,

    Smiles, tears, of all my life!amp;mdash;and, if God choose,

    I s love tter after death.

    Sonnet 44 - Beloved, t brougrong>

    XLIV

    Beloved, t brought me many flowers

    Plucked in through

    And er, and it seemed as if they grew

    In the sun and showers.

    So, in t love of ours,

    take back ts woo,

    And whdrew

    From my s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers

    Be overgroter weeds and rue,

    And  t ine,

    ake to do

    t pine.

    Instruct to keep true,

    And tell ts are left in mine.

 Sonnet I-V

    Of t years, the dear and wished-for years,

    ho each one in a gracious hand appears

    to bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

    And, as I mused it in ique tongue,

    I saears,

    t, sad years, the melancholy years,

    turns had flung

    A sraightway I was ware,

    So weeping, ic Shape did move

    Behe hair:

    And a voice said in mastery, wrove,--

    Guess nohere,

    t Deat Love.

    I t once us had sung

    Of t years, the dear and wished-for years,

    ho each one in a gracious hand appears

    to bear a gift for mortals, old or young;

    And, as I mused it in ique tongue,

    I saears,

    t, sad years, the melancholy years,

    turns had flung

    A sraightaway I was ware,

    So weeping, ic Shape did move

    Behe hair;

    And a voice said in mastery, wrove,--

    Guess no;Deat;/igt; I said, But, there,

    t;igt;Not Deat Love.lt;/igt;

    said,--himself, beside

    tening ! and replied

    One of us . . . t he curse

    So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce

    My sig if I had died,

    ts, placed there, would have signified

    Less absolute exclusion. Nay is worse

    From God thers, O my friend !

    Men could not part us heir worldly jars,

    Nor tempests bend;

    Our oucain-bars:

    And,  the end,

    e s voer for tars.

    Sonnet II: But Only trong>

    But only three in all Gods universe

    hou has said,--himself, beside

    tening! and replied

    One of us...t he curse

    So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce

    My sig if I had died,

    ts, placed there, would have signified

    Less absolute exclusion. Nay is worse

    From God thers, O my friend!

    Men could not part us heir worldly jars,

    Nor tempests bend;

    Our oucain-bars:

    And,  the end,

    e s voer for tars.

    Unlike are we, unlike, O princely  !

    Unlike our uses and our destinies.

    Our ministering two angels look surprise

    On one anotrike at

    t

    A guest for queens to social pageantries,

    iter eyes

    tears even can make mine, to play t

    Of c  to do

    ittice-lig me,

    A poor, tired, hrough

    tree ?

    the dew,--

    And Deat dig these agree.

    Unlike are we, unlike, O princely !

    Unlike our uses and our destinies.

    Our ministering two angels look surprise

    On one anotrike at

    t

    A guest for queens to social pageantries,

    iter eyes

    tears even can make mine, to play t

    Of c  to do

    ittice-lig me,

    A poor, tired, hrough

    tree?

    the dew--

    And Deat dig these agree.

    t to some palace-floor,

    Most gracious singer of high poems ! where

    ting, from the care

    Of c lips for more.

    And dost t tcoo poor

    For  think and bear

    to let thy music drop here unaware

    In folds of golden fulness at my door ?

    Look up and see t broken in,

    ts and os builders in the roof !

    My cricket c thy mandolin.

    her proof

    Of desolation ! thin

    t  sing . . . alone, aloof

    t to some palace-floor,

    Most gracious singer of high poems! where

    ting, from the care

    Of c lips for more.

    And dost t tcoo poor

    For  think and bear

    to let thy music drip here unaware

    In folds of golden fulness at my door?

    Look up and see t broken in,

    ts and os builders in the roof!

    My cricket c thy mandolin.

    her proof

    Of desolation! thin

    t  sing...alone, aloof.

    I lift my  up solemnly,

    As once Electra her sepulchral urn,

    And, looking in turn

    t t. Behold and see

    a great heap of grief lay hid in me,

    And he red wild sparkles dimly burn

    t in scorn

    Could tread t to darkness utterly,

    It mig if instead

    t beside me for to blow

    t up, . . . thine head,

    O my Beloved,  shee so,

    t none of all the fires shall scorch and shred

    tand farthen ! go.

    I lift my  up solemnly,

    As once Electra her sepulchral urn,

    And, looking in turn

    t t. Behold and see

    a great heap of grief lay hid in me,

    And he red wild sparkles dimly burn

    t in scorn

    Could tread t to darkness utterly,

    It mig if instead

    t beside me for to blow

    t up,...thine head,

    O my Belov¨¨d,  shee so,

    t none of all the fires shall scorch and shred

    tand farthen! go.

 Sonnet VI-X

    Go from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    hy shadow. Nevermore

    Alone upon threshold of my door

    Of individual life, I shall command

    t my hand

    Serenely in the sunshine as before,

    it t which I forbore--

    touc land

    Doom takes to part us, leaves t in mine

    it beat double.  I do

    And he wine

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue

    God for myself,  name of thine,

    And sees ears of two.

    Go from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    hy shadow. Nevermore

    Alone upon threshold of my door

    Of individual life, I shall command

    t my hand

    Serenely in the sunshine as before,

    it t which I forbore--

    touc land

    Doom takes to part us, leaves t in mine

    it beat double.  I do

    And he wine

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue

    God for myself,  name of thine,

    And sees ears of two.

    think,

    Since first I steps of thy soul

    Move still, oill, beside me, as tole

    Bet me and ter brink

    Of obvious deat to sink,

    as caugo love, and taughe whole

    Of life in a new rhe cup of dole

    God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,

    And praise its sness, S, hee anear.

    try, heaven, are changed away

    For here or here;

    And te and song . . . loved yesterday,

    (the singing angels know) are only dear

    Because t in hey say.

    think,

    Since first I steps of thy soul

    Move still, oill, beside me, as tole

    Bet me and ter brink

    Of obvious deat to sink,

    as caugo love, and taughe whole

    Of life in a new rhe cup of dole

    God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,

    And praise its sness, S, hee anear.

    try, heaven, are changed away

    For here or here;

    And te and song . . . loved yesterday,

    (the singing angels know) are only dear

    Because t in hey say.

    can I give thee back, O liberal

    And princely giver, w broughe gold

    And purple of t, unstained, untold,

    And laid tside of the-wall

    For suco take or leave hal,

    In unexpected largesse ? am I cold,

    Ungrateful, t for t manifold

    s, I render not all ?

    Not so; not cold,--but very poor instead.

    Ask God ears have run

    t so dead

    And pale a stuff, it  fitly done

    to give to thy head.

    Go fart it serve to trample on.

    can I give thee back, O liberal

    And princely giver, w broughe gold

    And purple of t, unstained, untold,

    And laid tside of the wall

    For suco take or leave hal,

    In unexpected largesse? am I cold,

    Ungrateful, t for t manifold

    s, I render not all?

    Not so; not cold,--but very poor instead.

    Ask God ears have run

    t so dead

    And pale a stuff, it  fitly done

    to give to thy head.

    Go fart it serve to trample on.

    Can it be rigo give w I can give ?

    to let t beneatears

    As salt as mine, and he sighing years

    Re-sigive

    t smiles wo live

    For all tions ? O my fears,

    t t ! e are not peers,

    So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,

    t givers of sucs as mine are, must

    Be counted , alas !

    I  soil t,

    Nor breathy Venice-glass,

    Nor give t.

    Beloved, I only love t it pass.

    Can it be rigo give w I can give?

    to let t beneatears

    As salt as mine, and he sighing years

    Re-sigive

    t smiles wo live

    For all tions? O my fears,

    t t! e are not peers,

    So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,

    t givers of sucs as mine are, must

    Be counted , alas!

    I  soil t,

    Nor breathy Venice-glass,

    Nor give t.

    Beloved, I only love t it pass.

    Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed

    And ation. Fire is bright,

    Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light

    Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:

    And love is fire. And w need

    I love t

    I stand transfigured, glorified aright,

    it proceed

    Out of my face tohing low

    In love,  creatures

    s while loving so.

    And ures

    Of self, and show

    great work of Love enures.

    Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed

    And ation. Fire is bright,

    Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light

    Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:

    And love is fire. And w need

    I love t

    I stand transfigured, glorified aright,

    it proceed

    Out of my face tohing low

    In love,  creatures

    s while loving so.

    And ures

    Of self, and show

    great work of Love enures.

 Sonnet XI-XL

    And to love can be desert,

    I am not all unhy. Cheeks as pale

    As trembling knees t fail

    to bear t,--

    trel-life t once

    to climb Aornus, and can scarce avail

    to pipe no tingale

    A melanc

    to t is plain

    I am not of thy place !

    And yet, because I love tain

    From t same love ting grace,

    to live on still in love, and yet in vain,--

    to bless t renounce to thy face.

    And to love can be desert,

    I am not all unhy. Cheeks as pale

    As trembling knees t fail

    to bear t,--

    trel-life t once

    to climb Aornus, and can scarce avail

    to pipe no tingale

    A melanc

    to t is plain

    I am not of thy place!

    And yet, because I love tain

    From t same love ting grace,

    to live on still in love, and yet in vain,--

    to bless t renounce to thy face.

    Indeed t,

    And o brow,

    Doth a ruby large enow

    to dra,--

    to ttermost,

    I s love  thou

    set me an example, shown me how,

    t eyes h mine were crossed,

    And love called love. And t speak

    Of love even, as a good thing of my own:

    tc and weak,

    And placed it by throne,--

    And t I love (O soul,  be meek !)

    Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

    Indeed t,

    And o brow,

    Doth ruby large enow

    to dra,--

    to ttermost,

    I s love  thou

    set me an example, shown me how,

    t eyes h mine were crossed,

    And love called love. And t speak

    Of love even, as good thing of my own:

    tc and weak,

    And placed it by throne,--

    And t I love (O soul,  be meek--)

    Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

    And  to speech

    thee, finding words enough,

    And orc, whe winds are rough,

    Beto cast light on each ?--

    I drop it at t. I cannot teach

    My o  so far off

    From myself--me--t I shee proof

    In words, of love  of reach.

    Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

    Commend my o thy belief,--

    Seeing t I stand unwon, however wooed,

    And rend t of my life, in brief,

    By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

    Lest one touc convey its grief

    And  to speech

    thee, finding words enough,

    And orc, whe winds are rough,

    Beto cast light upon each?

    I drop it at t. I cannot teach

    My o  so far off

    From myself.. me.. t I shee proof,

    In words of love  of reach.

    Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

    Commend my o thy belief,

    Seeing t I stand unwon (however wooed)

    And rend t of my life in brief

    By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

    Lest one touc convey its grief.

    If t love me, let it be for nought

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say

    I love her for her smile--her look--her way

    Of speaking gently,--for a trick of t

    t falls in es brought

    A sense of pleasant ease on such a day--

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    Be c,

    May be unwrougher love me for

    tys wiping my cheeks dry,--

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    t long, and lose thereby !

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    t love on, ternity.

    If t love me, let it be for nought

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say

    lt;igt;quot;I love her for her smile--her look--her way

    Of speaking gently,--for a trick of t

    t falls in es brought

    A sense of pleasant ease on suc; -lt;/igt;

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    Be c,

    May be unwrougher love me for

    tys wiping my cheeks dry, -

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    t long, and lose thereby!

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    t love on, ternity.

    Ohis world of ours !

    I  gainsay love, called love forsooth.

    I alked in my early youth,

    And since, not so long back but t the flowers

    till. Mussulmans and Giaours

    t a smile, and h

    For any ooth

    Slips on t if, after frequent showers,

    t so much

    ill turn to e

    Or else to oblivion. But t not such

    A lover, my Beloved ! t

    to bring souls to touch,

    And t soon e.

    Ohis world of ours!

    I  gainsay love, called love forsooth,

    I alked in my early youth,

    And since, not so long back but t the flowers

    till. Mussulmans and Giaours,

    t a smile, and h

    For any ooth

    Slips on t if, after frequent showers,

    t so much

    ill turn to e

    Or else to oblivion. But t not such

    A lover, my Belov¨¨d! t

    to bring souls to touch,

    And t soon ;too late.lt;/igt;

 Sonnet XLI-XV

    I ts,

    ito all

    tle near the prison-wall

    to s louder parts

    Ere t ons

    Or temples occupation, beyond call.

    But thou, who, in my voices sink and fall

    ook it, t Arts

    Orument didst drop do t

    to  I said betears, . . .

    Instruct me o to s

    My souls full meaning into future years,

    t t utterance, and salute

    Love t endures, from Life t disappears !

    I ts,

    ito all

    tle near the prison-wall

    to s louder parts

    Ere t ons

    Or temples occupation, beyond call.

    But thou, who, in my voices sink and fall

    ook it, t Arts

    Orument didst drop do t

    to  I said betears,...

    Instruct me o to s

    My souls full meaning into future years,

    t t utterance, and salute

    Love t endures, from Life t disappears!

    My future  copy fair my past--

    I e t once; and t my side

    My ministering life-angel justified

    t

    to te turned at last,

    And tead, sa unallied

    to angels in tried

    By natural ills, received t fast,

    t, my pilgrims staff

    Gave out green leaves h morning dews impearled.

    I seek no copy no half:

    Leave h long musing curled,

    And e me neures epigraph,

    New angel mine, unhe world !

    My future  copy fair my past -

    I e t once; and t my side

    My ministering life-angel justified

    t

    to te turned at last,

    And tead, sa unallied

    to angels in tried

    By natural ills, received t fast,

    t, my pilgrims staff

    Gave out green leaves h morning dews impearled.

    I seek no copy no half:

    Leave h long musing curled,

    And e me neures epigraph,

    New angel mine, unhe world!

    me count the ways.

    I love to t

    My soul can reac of sight

    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    I love to the level of everydays

    Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

    I love trive for Right;

    I love turn from Praise.

    I love t to use

    In my old griefs, and h.

    I love to lose

    it saints,--I love th,

    Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,

    I s love tter after death.

    me count the ways.

    I love to t

    My soul can reac of sight

    For the ends of being and ideal grace.

    I love to the level of every days

    Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

    I love trive for right.

    I love turn from praise.

    I love t to use

    In my old griefs, and h.

    I love to lose

    it saints. I love th,

    Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

    I s love tter after death.

    Beloved, t brought me many flowers

    Plucked in through

    And er, and it seemed as if they grew

    In the sun and showers.

    So, in t love of ours,

    take back ts woo,

    And whdrew

    From my s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers

    Be overgroter weeds and rue,

    And  t ine,

    ake to do

    t pine.

    Instruct to keep true,

    And tell ts are left in mine.

    Sonnet XLIV: Belov¨¨d, t Brougrong>

    Belov¨¨d, t brought me many flowers

    Plucked in through

    And er, and it seemed as if they grew

    In the sun and showers.

    So, in t love of ours,

    take back ts woo,

    And whdrew

    From my s ground. Indeed, those bed and bowers

    Be overgroter weeds and rue,

    And  t ine,

    ake to do

    t pine.

    Instruct to keep true,

    And tell ts are left in mine.

    Accuse me not, beseec I wear

    too calm and sad a face in front of thine;

    For  shine

    it on our brow and hair.

    On me t ing care,

    As on a bee s in a crystalline;

    Since sorrow  me safe in loves divine,

    And to spread er air

    ere most impossible failure, if I strove

    to fail so. But I look on thee--

    Behe end of love,

    hearing oblivion beyond memory;

    As one ws and gazes from above,

    Over to tter sea.

    Accuse me not, beseec I wear

    too calm and sad a face in front of thine;

    For  shine

    it on our brow and hair.

    On me t ing care,

    As on a bee in a crystalline;

    Since sorrow  me safe in loves divine

    And to spread er air

    ere most impossible failure, if I strove

    to fail so. But I look on thee--

    Behe end of love,

    hearing oblivion beyond memory;

    As one ws and gazes from above,

    Over to tter sea.

 Sonnet XVI-XX

    And yet, because t so,

    Because t more noble and like a king,

    t prevail against my fears and fling

    till my  shall grow

    too close against t o know

    shook when alone. hy, conquering

    May prove as lordly and complete a thing

    In lifting upward, as in crushing low !

    And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword

    to one ws h,

    Even so, Beloved, I at last record,

    rife. If te me forth,

    I rise above abasement at the word.

    Make to enlarge my h.

    And yet, because t so,

    Because t more noble and like a king,

    t prevail against my fears and fling

    till my  shall grow

    too close against t o know

    shook when alone. hy, conquering

    May prove as lordly and complete a thing

    In lifting upward, as in crushing low!

    And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword

    to one ws h;

    Even so, Belov¨¨d, I at last record,

    rife. If lt;igt;t;/igt; invite me forth,

    I rise above abasement at the word.

    Make to enlarge my h.

    My poet, t touces

    God set between er and Before,

    And strike up and strike off the general roar

    Of t floats

    In a serene air purely. Antidotes

    Of medicated music, answering for

    Mankinds forlornest uses, t pour

    From to tes

    to suco  on thine.

    ,  t use ?

    A o sing by gladly ? or a fine

    Sad memory, o interfuse ?

    A so sing--of palm or pine ?

    A grave, on  from singing ? Choose.

    My poet, t touces

    God set between er and Before,

    And strike up and strike off the general roar

    Of t floats

    In a serene air purely. Antidotes

    Of medicated music, answering for

    Mankinds forlornest uses, t pour

    From to tes

    to suco  on thine.

    ,  t use?

    A o sing by gladly? or a fine

    Sad memory, o interfuse?

    A so sing--of palm or pine?

    A grave, on  from singing? Choose.

    I never gave a lock of hair away

    to a man, Dearest, except to thee,

    fully,

    I ring out to th and say

    take it. My day of yout yesterday;

    My o my foots glee,

    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,

    As girls do, any more: it only may

    Now swo pale cears,

    taug hangs aside

    trick. I t the funeral-shears

    ould take t, but Love is justified,--

    take it those years,

    t here when she died.

    Sonnet XVIII: I Never Gave a Lock of rong>

    I never gave a lock of hair away

    to a man, dearest, except to thee,

    fully,

    I ring out to th and say

    take it. My day of yout yesterday;

    My o my foots glee,

    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,

    As girls do, any more: it only may

    Now swo pale cears,

    taug hangs aside

    trick. I t the funeral-shears

    ould take t, but Love is justified,--

    take it those years,

    t here when she died.

    to s merchandise;

    I barter curl for curl upon t mart,

    And from my poets foreo my

    Receive tweighs argosies,--

    As purply black, as erst to Pindars eyes

    tresses gloomed at

    te Muse-broerpart, . . .

    the bay-crowns shade, Beloved, I surmise,

    Still lingers on t is so black !

    t of smooth,

    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,

    And lay t wh;

    , as on to lack

    No natural  till mine groh.

    to s merchandise;

    I barter curl for curl upon t mart,

    And from my poets foreo my

    Receive tweighs argosies,--

    As purply black, as erst to Pindars eyes

    tresses gloomed at

    te Muse-broerpart,...

    the bay-crowns shade, Belov¨¨d, I surmise,

    Still lingers on t so black!

    t of smooth,

    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,

    And lay t wh;

    , as on to lack

    No natural  till mine groh.

    Beloved, my Beloved, whink

    t t in the world a year ago,

    time I sat alone he snow

    And saprint, he silence sink

    No moment at t, link by link,

    ent counting all my c so

    t any blow

    Struck by thus I drink

    Of lifes great cup of wonder ! onderful,

    Never to feel t

    it or speech,--nor ever cull

    Some prescience of te

    t gros are as dull,

    guess Gods presence out of sight.

    Belov¨¨d, my Belov¨¨d, whink

    t t in the world a year ago,

    time I sat alone he snow

    And saprint, he silence sink

    No moment at t, link by link

    ent counting all my c so

    t any blow

    Struck by thus I drink

    Of lifes great cup of wonder! onderful,

    Never to feel t

    it or speech,--nor ever cull

    Some prescience of te

    t gros are as dull

    guess Gods presence out of sight.

 Sonnet XXI-XXV

    From year to year until I sahy face,

    Are o injure. Very ill

    And let it drop ado

    Rat

    Beloved, I, amid ted

    Of all tural joys as lightly worn

    ere co long despairs, till Gods own grace

    too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,

    too many flohe year ?

    Until to fire

    terance !--only minding, Dear,

    As brig count it strange,

    Sonnet XXIII: Is It Indeed So?

    God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

    Say over again, and yet once over again,

    Against tab of worldlings, who if rife

    t so in tter. I am thine--

    Comes ted.

    , mediating

    t t love me. ted

    As tringed pearls, eaced in its turn

    terance!--only minding, Dear,

    Valley and  rain

    S in upon itself and do no harm

    By a beating  at dance-time. hopes apace

    Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

    Alone to  drop not fewer;

    Be ented ? ting higher,

    From year to year until I sahy face,

    the angels would press on us and aspire

    S in upon itself and do no harm

    God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

    Are o injure. Very ill

    Of all tural joys as lightly worn

    too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,

    Comes ted.

    Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?

    Contrarious moods of men recoil away

    As tringed pearls, eaced in its turn

    I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read

    Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn

    Be ented? ting higher,

    , mediating

    the lilies of our lives may reassure

    I lean upon t alarm,

    the on me!

    and up erect and strong,

    Beloved, I, amid ted

    Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.

    Until to fire

    Bet tars and te.

    In t and warm,

    ts, accessible

    S;a cuckoo-song,quot;as t treat it,

    Remember, never to the hill or plain,

    and up erect and strong,

    ere co long despairs, till Gods own grace

    Cry, lt;igt;Speak once more--t!lt;/igt; ho can fear

    to drop some golden orb of perfect song

    By a doubtful spirit-voice, in t doubts pain

    Groraig of mans reache hill.

    And feel as safe as guarded by a charm

    sound of rife

    And feel as safe as guarded by a charm

    s oure dotate,

    Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

    And let it drop ado

    A place to stand and love in for a day,

    it.

    Deep being ! Fast it sinkething

    And let us rife

    to love me also in silence hy soul.

    Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,

    My near s view of hee!

    Can to us, t we s long

    Cry,  Speak once more--t !  ho can fear

    A , Beloved, have I borne

    And hee more coldly shine

    t so in tter. I am thine--

    Can to us, t we s long

    Contrarious moods of men recoil away

    the angels would press on us and aspire

    I marvelled, my Belov¨¨d, when I read

    Valley and  rain

    But . . . so muco thy wine

    remble ? tead

    Groraig of mans reache hill.

    And isolate pure spirits, and permit

    Let the worlds sharpness, like a clasping knife,

    And isolate pure spirits, and permit

    At eit,--ter wrong

    I yield thy sake, and exchange

    remble? tead

    And sorroer sorroook the place

    By a beating  at dance-time. hopes apace

    t t love me. ted

    Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

    And sorroer sorroook the place

    My near s view of hee !

    Deep being! Fast it sinkething

    At eit,--ter wrong

    the lilies of our lives may reassure

    ts, accessible

    A place to stand and love in for a day,

    Let the worlds sharpness like a clasping knife

    I yield thy sake, and exchange

    A , Belov¨¨d, have I borne

    My . t bid me bring

    S treat it,

    the on me !

    After tting. Life to life -

    Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.

    too many flohe year?

    In t and warm,

    Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,

    s oure dotate,

    Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

    For love, to give up acres and degree,

    I lean upon t alarm,

    Because of grave-damps falling round my head?

    Against tab of worldlings, who if rife

    Rat

    it.

    Bet tars and te.

    Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn

 Sonnet XXVI-XXX

    I lived h visions for my company

    Instead of men and women, years ago,

    And found tle mates, nor t to know

    A so me.

    But soon trailing purple  free

    Of t, tes did silent grow,

    And I myself gre and blind below

    t come--to be,

    Beloved, s,

    tter, yet the same,

    As river-er o fonts),

    Met in t thee overcame

    My soul isfaction of all s:

    Because Gods gifts put mans best dreams to shame.

    I lived h visions for my company

    Instead of men and women, years ago,

    And found tle mates, nor t to know

    A ser music to me.

    But soon trailing purple  free

    Of t, tes did silent grow,

    And I myself gre and blind below

    t come--to be,

    Belov¨¨d, s,

    tter, yet the same,

    As river er o fonts),

    Met in t thee overcame

    My soul isfaction of all s:

    Because Gods gifts put mans best dreams to shame.

    My oed me

    From t of earthrown,

    And, in bet ts, blown

    A life-breatill the forehead hopefully

    S again, as all the angels see,

    Before thy saving kiss ! My own, my own,

    to me whe world was gone,

    And I whee !

    I find trong, and glad.

    As one wands in dewless asphodel

    Looks backedious time he had

    In th bosom-swell,

    Make ness, he good and bad,

    t Love, as strong as Deatrieves as well.

    My dear Belov¨¨d, ed me

    From t of earthrown,

    And, in bet ts, blown

    A life-breatill the forehead hopefully

    S again, as all the angels see,

    Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,

    to me whe world was gone,

    And I ;t;/igt;

    I find trong, and glad.

    As one wands in dewless asphodel

    Looks backedious time he had

    In th bosom-swell,

    Make ness, he good and bad,

    t Love, as strong as Deatrieves as well.

    My letters ! all dead paper, mute and we !

    And yet they seem alive and quivering

    Against my tremulous ring

    And let to-night.

    to

    Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

    to come and touching,

    Yet I  for it !--t . . .

    Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed

    As if Gods future t.

    ts ink has paled

    it my  t beat too fast.

    And t£ô£ð://£÷£÷w?£¹9£ì£é£â.ne£ô</bdo>l availed

    If,  at last !

    My letters-- all dead paper, mute and we!

    And yet they seem alive and quivering

    Against my tremulous ring

    And let to-night,

    to

    Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

    to come and touching,

    Yet I  for it!--t...

    Said, lt;igt;Dear, I love t;/igt; and I sank and quailed

    As if Gods future t.

    t;igt;I am t;/igt;--and so its ink has paled

    it my  t beat too fast.

    And thy words have ill availed

    If,  at last!

    I ts do twine and bud

    About t a tree,

    Put out broad leaves, and soon t to see

    Except traggling green whe wood.

    Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood

    I  s instead of thee

    dearer, better ! Ratantly

    Renerong tree should,

    Rustle t trunk all bare,

    And let thee

    Drop , stered, everywhere !

    Because, in to see and hee

    And breathy shadow a new air,

    I do not too near thee.

    I ts do twine and bud

    About t a tree,

    Put out broad leaves, and soon t to see

    Except traggling green whe wood.

    Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood

    I  s instead of thee

    dearer, better! Ratantly

    Renerong tree should,

    Rustle t trunk all bare,

    And let thee

    Drop , stered, everywhere!

    Because, in to see and hee

    And breathy shadow a new air,

    I do not too near thee.

    I see tears to-night,

    And yet to-day I sahee smiling. how

    Refer t thou

    Or I, we

    Amid ted joy and te

    May so fall flat, e brow,

    On tar-stair. I hy voice and vow,

    Perplexed, uncertain, since t out of sight,

    As he choirs Amen.

    Beloved, dost thou love ? or did I see all

    ted when

    too ve liged my ideal,

    For my souls eyes ? ill t light come again,

    As noears come--falling  and real ?

    I see tears to-night,

    And yet to-day I sahee smiling. how

    Refer t thou

    Or I, we

    Amid ted joy and te

    May so fall flat, e brow,

    On tar-stair. I hy voice and vow,

    Perplexed, uncertain, since t out of sight,

    As he choirs amen.

    Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all

    ted when

    too ve liged my ideal,

    For my souls eyes? ill t light come again,

    As noears come--falling  and real?

 Sonnet XXXI-XXXV

    t ! all is said  a word.

    I sit beneathy looks, as children do

    In t tremble through

    their happy eyelids from an unaverred

    Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred

    In t last doubt ! and yet I cannot rue

    t, but t wo

    S stand unministered

    By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,

    thou dovelike help ! and, when my fears would rise,

    it serenely interpose:

    Brood dohy divine sufficiencies

    ts hose,

    Like callo desert to the skies.

    t! all is said  a word.

    I sit beneathy looks, as children do

    In t tremble through

    their happy eyelids from an unaverred

    Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred

    In t last doubt! and yet I cannot rue

    t, but t wo

    S stand unministered

    By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,

    thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,

    it serenely interpose:

    Brood dohy divine sufficiencies

    ts hose,

    Like callo desert to the skies.

    t time t th

    to love me, I looked foro the moon

    to slacken all too soon

    And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.

    Quick-loving s, I t, may quickly loathe;

    And, looking on myself, I seemed not one

    For suc-of-tune

    orn viol, a good singer h

    to spoil ce,

    Is laid do t ill-sounding note.

    I did not  I placed

    A  strains may float

    Neater-ruments defaced,--

    And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

    t time t th

    to love me, I looked foro the moon

    to slacken all too soon

    And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.

    Quick-loving s, I t, may quickly loathe;

    And, looking on myself, I seemed not one

    For suc-of-tune

    orn viol, a good singer h

    to spoil ce,

    Is laid do t ill-sounding note.

    I did not  I placed

    A  strains may float

    Neater-ruments defaced,--

    And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

    Yes, call me by my pet-name ! let me hear

    to run at, when a child,

    From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,

    to glance up in some face t proved me dear

    its eyes. I miss the clear

    Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled

    Into the music of heavens undefiled,

    Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,

    th

    Be o te.

    Gato complete th,

    And catce.

    Yes, call me by t name,--and I, in truth,

    it,  .

    Sonnet XXXIII: Yes, Call Me by My Pet-Name!

    Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear

    to run at, when a child,

    From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,

    to glance up in some face t proved me dear

    its eyes. I miss the clear

    Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled

    Into the music of heavens undefiled,

    Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,

    th

    Be o te.

    Gato complete th,

    And catce.

    Yes, call me by t name,--and I, in truth,

    it,  .

    it, I said, Ill anshee

    As t call me by my name--

    Lo, the same,

    Perplexed and ruffled by lifes strategy ?

    old ily

    I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game,

    to run and ans came

    At play last moment, and  on h me

    through my obedience. hen I answer now,

    I drop a grave t, break from solitude;

    Yet still my  goes to thee--ponder how--

    Not as to a single good, but all my good !

    Lay t, best one, and allow

    t no c could run fast as this blood.

    it, I said, Ill anshee

    As t call me by my name--

    Lo, the same,

    Perplexed and ruffled by lifes strategy?

    old ily

    I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game,

    to run and ans came

    At play last moment, and  on h me

    through my obedience. hen I answer now,

    I drop a grave t, break from solitude;

    Yet still my  goes to thee--ponder how--

    Not as to a single good, but all my good!

    Lay t, best one, and allow

    t no c could run as fast as this blood.

    If I leave all for t thou exchange

    And be all to me ? Shall I never miss

    alk and blessing and the common kiss

    t comes to eacurn, nor count it strange,

    o drop on a new range

    Of his ?

    Nay,  t place by me which is

    Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change ?

    t s . If to conquer love, ried,

    to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove;

    For grief indeed is love and grief beside.

    Alas, I o love.

    Yet love me-- t wide,

    And fold  hy dove.

    If I leave all for t thou exchange

    And be all to me? Shall I never miss

    alk and blessings and the common kiss

    t comes to eacurn, nor count it strange,

    o drop on a new range

    Of his?

    Nay,  t place by me which is

    Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change?

    ts . If to conquer love, ried,

    to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove;

    For grief indeed is love and grief beside.

    Alas, I o love.

    Yet love me-- t wide,

    And fold  hy dove.

 Sonnet XXXVI-XXXIX

    first and loved, I did not build

    Upon t  mean

    to last, a love set pendulous between

    Sorrohrilled,

    Distrusting every lig seemed to gild

    to overlean

    A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

    And strong since t God has willed

    A still reneroth . . .

    Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

    tual kiss drop doh

    As an unohe lips being cold.

    And Love, be false ! if o keep one oath,

    Must lose one joy, by ar foretold.

    first and loved, I did not build

    Upon t  mean

    to last, a love set pendulous between

    Sorrohrilled,

    Distrusting every lig seemed to gild

    to overlean

    A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

    And strong since t God has willed

    A still reneroth ...

    Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

    tual kiss drop doh

    As an unohe lips being cold.

    And Love, be false! if o keep one oath,

    Must lose one joy, by ar foretold.

    Pardon, o my soul should make,

    Of all t strong divineness which I know

    For thee, an image only so

    Formed of t to s and break.

    It is t distant years ake

    ty, recoiling h a blow,

    o undergo

    t and dread, and blindly to forsake

    ty of likeness and distort

    t love to a erfeit:

    As if a s,

    o commemorate,

    S a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

    And vibrant tail, emple-gate.

    Pardon, o my soul should make,

    Of all t strong divineness which I know

    For thee, an image only so

    Formed of t to s and break.

    It is t distant years ake

    ty, recoiling h a blow,

    o undergo

    t and dread, and blindly to forsake

    ty of likeness and distort

    t love to a erfeit:

    As if a s,

    o commemorate,

    S a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

    And vibrant tail, emple gate.

    First time  only kissed

    te;

    And ever since, it grew more clean and we,

    Sloo ings, quick s  O,

    I could not ,

    t first kiss. t

    t, and soughe forehead, and half missed,

    he hair. O beyond meed !

    t he chrism of love, which loves own crown,

    itifying sness, did precede.

    third upon my lips was folded down

    In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

    I have been proud and said,  My love, my own.

    First time  only kissed

    te;

    And ever since, it grew more clean and we,

    Sloo ings, quick s quot;O,quot;

    I could not ,

    t first kiss. t

    t, and soughe forehead, and half missed,

    he hair. O beyond meed!

    t he chrism of love, which loves own crown,

    itifying sness, did precede.

    third upon my lips was folded down

    In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

    I ;My love, my o;

    Because t t the grace

    to look this mask of me

    (Against hus blanchingly

    itrue face,

    tness of lifes race,--

    Because t to see,

    t same souls distracting lethargy,

    tient angel ing for a place

    In the new heavens,--because nor sin nor woe,

    Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighborhood,

    Nor all o go,

    Nor all wired of all, self-viewed,--

    Not, teach me so

    to pour out gratitude, as t, good !

    Sonnet XXXIX: Because t trong>

    Because t t the grace

    to look this mask of me

    (Against hus blanchingly

    itrue face,

    tness of lifes race,

    Because t to see,

    t same souls distracting lethargy,

    tient angel ing for a place

    In the new heavens,--because nor sin nor woe,

    Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighbourhood,

    Nor all o go,

    Nor all of wired of all, self-viewed,--

    Not, teach me so

    to pour out gratitude, as t, good!

 Sonnets from the Portuguese i-v

    I t once us had sung

    Of t years, the dear and wishd-for years,

    ho each one in a gracious hand appears

    to bear a gift for mortals old or young:

    And, as I mused it in ique tongue,

    I saears

    t, sad years, the melancholy years--

    turns had flung

    A sraightway I was ware,

    So weeping, ic Shape did move

    Behe hair;

    And a voice said in mastery, wrove,

    Guess nohere

    t Deat Love.

    UNLIKE are we, unlike, O princely !

    Unlike our uses and our destinies.

    Our ministering two angels look surprise

    On one anotrike at

    t

    A guest for queens to social pageantries,

    iter eyes

    tears even can make mine, to play t

    Of c  to do

    ittice-lig me--

    A poor, tired, hrough

    tree?

    the dew--

    And Deat dig these agree.

    GO from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    hy shadow. Nevermore

    Alone upon threshold of my door

    Of individual life I shall command

    t my hand

    Serenely in the sunshine as before,

    it t which I forbore--

    touc land

    Doom takes to part us, leaves t in mine

    it beat double.  I do

    And he wine

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue

    God for myself,  name of thine,

    And sees ears of two.

    IF t love me, let it be for naught

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say,

    I love her for her smile--her look--her way

    Of speaking gently,--for a trick of t

    t falls in es brought

    A sense of pleasant ease on such a day--

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    Be c,

    May be unwrougher love me for

    tys wiping my cheeks dry:

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    t long, and lose thereby!

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    t love on, ternity.

    and up erect and strong,

    Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

    Until to fire

    At eit,--ter wrong

    Can t we s long

    Be ented? ting higher,

    the angels would press on us, and aspire

    to drop some golden orb of perfect song

    Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

    Rat

    Contrarious moods of men recoil away

    And isolate pure spirits, and permit

    A place to stand and love in for a day,

    it.

 Souls Expression, The

    itammering lips and insufficient sound

    I strive and struggle to deliver right

    t music of my nature, day and night

    it and feeling interwound

    And inly anshe senses round

    itaves of a mystic dept

    ep out grandly to te

    From the sensual ground.

    truggle to outbear

    tals of the sense, sublime and whole,

    And utter all myself into the air:

    But if I did it,--as thunder-roll

    Breaks its own cloud, my fleshere,

    Before t dread apocalypse of soul.

 Substitution

    o you

    Botness, faileth suddenly,

    And silence, against w cry,

    Acrong disease and new--

    music will undo

    t silence to your sense ? Not friendships sigh,

    Not reasons subtle count; not melody

    Of viols, nor of pipes t Faunus blew;

    Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales

    s leap uprees

    to t the spheric laws

    Self-ced, nor t  All hails,

    Met in these.

    Speak t !--and fill this pause.

 Tears

    t

    More grief t is well--

    t is liger, none befell

    Since Adam forfeited t.

    tears ! ears ? ts cot,

    t her marriage-bell

    the oracle

    Of

    Sucure on hank God for grace,

    Ye who weep only ! If, as some have done,

    Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place

    And touc tombs,--look up I tears will run

    Soon in long rivers doed face,

    And leave tars and sun

 The Autumn

    Go, sit upon ty hill,

    And turn your eyes around,

    ers wild

    Do umn sound.

    t on them --

    t --

    Sit still -- as all transformd to stone,

    Except your musing .

    in summer-time,

    May yet be in your mind;

    And he green woods sing

    Beneathe freshening wind.

    the same wind now blows around,

    You s blast recall;

    For every breat stirs trees,

    Doto fall.

    O h

    t fles impart:

    e cannot bear its visitings,

    .

    Gay s may make us smile,

    hen Sorrow is asleep;

    But ot make us smile,

    hen Sorrow bids us weep!

    t  clasp our hands, --

    their presence may be oer;

    t voice t meets our ear,

    t tone may come no more!

    Youth,

    hich once refreshd our mind,

    Shose sighing woods,

    tumn wind.

    t the woods;

    Look out oer vale and hill-

    In spring, them --

    till.

    Come autumns scaters cold --

    Come ce!

    ever prospect h bound,

    Can neer be desolate.

 The Best Thing in the World

    s t the world?

    June-rose, by May-dew impearled;

    S sout means no rain;

    trut cruel to a friend;

    Pleasure, not in e to end;

    Beauty, not self-decked and curled

    till its pride is over-plain;

    Love, when, so, youre loved again.

    s t the world?

    --Somet of it, I think.

 The Cry Of The Children

    Do ye hers,

    Ere th years?

    t thers---

    And t cannot stop tears.

    ting in the meadows;

    t;

    the shadows;

    to---

    But thers,

    tterly!---

    time of thers

    In try of the free.

    Do you question the sorrow,

    ears are falling so?---

    to-morrow

    in Long Ago---

    tree is leafless in t---

    t---

    tricken, is t---

    t to be lost:

    But thers,

    Do you ask tand

    eeping sore before thers,

    In our herland?

    their pale and sunken faces,

    And to see,

    For t, draws and presses

    Dohe cheeks of infancy---

    Your old earthey say, is very dreary;

    Our young feet, they say, are very weak!

    Fe are weary?

    Our grave-rest is very far to seek.

    Ask t the children,

    For tside earth is cold,---

    And and , in our bewildering,

    And the old.

    true, say t may happen

    t ime.

    Little Alice died last year---the grave is shapen

    Like a snohe rime.

    e looked into t prepared to take her---

    as no room for any he close clay:

    From th none will wake her

    Crying, Get up, little Alice! it is day.

    If you listen by t grave, in sun and shower,

    ittle Alice never cries!---

    Could we see  know her,

    For time for growing in her eyes---

    And merry go s, lulled and stilled in

    the kirk-chime!

    It is good w he children,

    t ime.

    Alas, alas, they are seeking

    Deat to have!

    ts away from breaking,

    it from the grave.

    Go out, cy---

    Sing out, ctle thrushes do---

    Pluck your ty---

    Laugo feel your fingers let through!

    But the meadows

    Like our he mine?

    Leave us quiet in the coal-shadows,

    From your pleasures fair and fine!

    For ohe children, we are weary,

    And  run or leap---

    If  were merely

    to drop dohem and sleep.

    Our knees tremble sorely in tooping---

    e fall upon our faces, trying to go;

    And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping,

    t flower would look as pale as snow.

    For, all day, iring,

    the coal-dark, underground---

    Or, all day, he wheels of iron

    In tories, round and round.

    For, all day, turning,---

    their wind comes in our faces,---

    till our s turn,---our h pulses burning,

    And turn in their places---

    turns the high window blank and reeling---

    turns t t droppethe wall---

    turn t crahe ceiling---

    All are turning, all th all.---

    And, all day, the iron wheels are droning;

    And sometimes we could pray,

    O ye w in a mad moaning)

    Stop! be silent for to-day!

    Ay! be silent! Let thing

    For a moment, mouto mouth---

    Let touching

    Of tender h!

    Let t tallic motion

    Is not all the life God fashions or reveals---

    Let t tion

    t they live in you, os under you, O wheels!---

    Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,

    Grinding life dos mark;

    And the childrens souls, which God is calling sunward,

    Spin on blindly in the dark.

    Noell thers,

    to look up to him and pray---

    So thers,

    ill bless ther day.

    t he should hear us,

    e tirred?

    ures near us

    Pass by, , or ans a word!

    And heir resounding)

    Strangers speaking at the door:

    Is it likely God, h angels singing round him,

    hears our weeping any more?

    two words, indeed, of praying we remember,

    And at midnights hour of harm,---

    Our Fathe chamber,

    e say softly for a charm.

    e kno Our Father,

    And , in some pause of angels song,

    God may pluck t to gather,

    And  rong.

    Our Father! If he heard us, he would surely

    (For they call him good and mild)

    Anseep world very purely,

    Come and rest h me, my child.

    But no! say ter,

    one;

    And tell us, of er

    o work on.

    Go to! say the children,---Up in heaven,

    Dark, wurning clouds are all we find.

    Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving---

    e look up for God, but tears have made us blind.

    Do you he children weeping and disproving,

    O my brot ye preach?

    For Gods possible is taught by his worlds loving---

    And t of each.

    And he children weep before you;

    they run;

    the glory

    er the sun:

    t not the wisdom;

    t its calm---

    Are slaves,  ty in Cdom,---

    Are martyrs, by t the palm,---

    Are  unretrievingly

    No dear remembrance keep,---

    Are orphly love and heavenly:

    Let t them weep!

    their pale and sunken faces,

    And to see,

    For their places,

    it for Deity;---

    ion,

    ill you stand, to move t,

    Stifle dos palpitation,

    And tread ono your t?

    Our blood splasyrants,

    And your purple sh;

    But the silence

    trong man in h!

 The Deserted Garden

    I mind me in ted,

    en underneathe sun

    ito run

    to a garden long deserted.

    te;

    And he spade,

    t grasses Nature laid

    to sanctify .

    I called the place my wilderness,

    For no one entered t I;

    to espy,

    And passed it neertheless.

    trees erwoven wild,

    And spread t

    to keep bot,

    But not a happy child.

    Adventurous joy it was for me!

    I crept beneathe boughs, and found

    A circle smooth of mossy ground

    Beneatree.

    Old garden rose-trees  in,

    Bedropt e

    ell satisfied

    And careless to be seen.

    Long years ago it might befall,

    rim,

    the grave old gardener prided him

    On t of all.

    Some lady, stately overmuch,

    h a silken noise,

    the voice

    t likened o such.

    And to make a diadem,

    Sen may wined,

    came to mind

    t fe them.

    Otle t t lady proud,

    A cce rose,

    er brows,

    And silk was changed for shroud!

    Nor t t gardener, (full of scorns

    For men unlearned and simple phrase,)

    A c all its praise

    By creeping thorns!

    to me upon my lo,

    t

    Of science or loves compliment,

    I  as s.

    It did not move my grief to see

    trace of ep departed:

    Because ted,

    ther place for me!

    Friends, blame me not! a narrow ken

    the sun and sward;

    e draerward,

    e feel then.

    And gladdest hours for me did glide

    In silence at tree wall:

    A thrush made gladness musical

    Upon ther side.

    Nor he nor I did eer incline

    to peck or pluck te;

    roses might

    Lead lives as glad as mine?

    to make my -e,

    I brouger from the spring

    Praised in its own low murmuring,

    And cresses glossy .

    And so, I t, my likeness grew

    (it tale)

    to Gentle  of the Dale,

    And Angelina too.

    For oft I read hin my nook

    Sucrel stories; till the breeze

    Made sounds poetic in trees,

    And t the book.

    If I s te

    I

    trees, nor feel t c

    Delig.

    My ced,

    My footstep from the moss which drew

    Its fairy circle round: anew

    ted.

    Anothere rehearse

    test are;

    No more for me! myself afar

    Do sing a sadder verse.

    A I lay

    In t c so greenly ,

    I laugo myself and t

    time will pass away.

    And still I laug fear

    But t, w away

    time, some happier play

    My womanhood would cheer.

    I kneime would pass away,

    And yet, beside tree wall,

    Dear God,  all,

    Did I look up to pray!

    time is past; and no grows

    trees,

    And I bee sepulchres

    As e rose, --

    s are given,

    And I  to lift my face,

    Reminded  place

    the color draws from heaven, --

    It somethly pain,

    But more for heavenly promise free,

    t I wo be

    t happy child again.

 The House Of Clouds

    I would build a cloudy house

    For my ts to live in;

    oo fancy-loose

    And too low for heaven!

    alk my dream aloud---

    I build it brigo see,---

    I build it on t cloud,

    to whee.

    Cloud-he mornings grey,

    Faced h amber column,---

    Croh crimson cupola

    From a sunset solemn!

    May mists, for ts, fetch,

    Pale and glimmering;

    ith a sunbeam hid in each,

    And a smell of spring.

    Build trance high and proud,

    Darkening and tening,---

    If a riven thunder-cloud,

    Veined by tning.

    Use one ain,

    For thin;

    turning to a sound like rain,

    As I enter in.

    Build a spacious hereby:

    Boldly, never fearing.

    Use the sky,

    he wind is clearing;

    Branch corridors sublime,

    Flecked airs---

    Suco climb,

    Folloheir own prayers.

    In test of the house,

    I will have my chamber:

    Silence at the door shall use

    Evenings light of amber,

    Solemnising every mood,

    Softemng in degree,---

    turning sadness into good,

    As I turn the key.

    Be my capestried

    ithe showers of summer,

    Close, but soundless,---glorified

    he sunbeams come here;

    andering harpers, harping on

    aters stringed for such,---

    Draune,

    it touch.

    Bring a sill

    From tnut forest,

    Bring a purple from the hill,

    is sorest;

    Spread t from o wall,

    Carpet-wove around,---

    shall fall

    In ligead of sound.

    Bring tasque cloudlets home

    From tide zenith

    Ranged, for sculptures, round the room,---

    Named as Fancy h:

    Some be Junos,  eyes;

    Naiads,  sources

    Some be birds of paradise,---

    Some, Olympian horses.

    Bring the birds shake off,

    aking in the hedges,---

    too, perfumed for a proof,

    From the lilies edges:

    From our Englands field and moor,

    Bring te in;

    o form a mirror pure,

    For Loves self-delighting.

    Bring a grey cloud from t,

    he lark is singing;

    Somet least,

    Unlost in the bringing:

    t shall be a morning chair,

    Poet-dream may sit in,

    leans out on the air,

    Unrten.

    Bring the sun

    c.

    t sh one

    Sidelong star to c,---

    Fit for poets finest t,

    At the curfew-sounding,--- ;

    t

    the seen, around him.

    Poets t,----not poets sigh!

    Las, together!

    Cloudy walls divide and fly,

    As in April her!

    Cupola and column proud,

    Structure brigo see---

    Gone---except t moonlit cloud,

    to whee!

    Let them! ipe such visionings

    From tel---

    Love secures some fairer things

    Doal.

    the sun may darken,---heaven be bowed---

    But still, unchanged shall be,---

    moonlit cloud,

    to whEE!

 The Ladys Yes

    Yes, I ans night;

    No, this morning, Sir, I say.

    Colours seen by candlelight,

    ill not look the same by day.

    ,

    Lamps above, and laughs below---

    Love me sounded like a jest,

    Fit for Yes or fit for No.

    Call me false, or call me <dfn>£è£ô£ô£ð://www.£¹£¹£ìi£â.£î£å£ô</dfn>free---

    Vo may shine,

    No man on your face shall see

    Any grief for change on mine.

    Yet th---

    time to dance is not to woo---

    ooer ligroth---

    Scorn of me recoils on you.

    Learn to h

    Nobly, as thing is high;

    Bravely, as for life and death---

    ity.

    Lead ive boards,

    Point o tarry skies,

    Guard ruthful words,

    Pure from courtsteries.

    By your trutrue---

    Ever true, as wives of yore---

    And o you,

    ShALL be Yes for evermore.

 The Ladys Yes.

    quot; Yes !quot; I ans night ;

    quot; No !quot; this morning, Sir, I say !

    Colours, seen by candle-light,

    ill not look the same by day.

    abors played t,

    Lamps above, and laughs below --

    Love me sounded like a jest,

    Fit for Yes or fit for No !

    Call me false, or call me free --

    Vo may shine,

    No man on your face shall see

    Any grief for change on mine.

    Yet th --

    time to dance is not to woo --

    ooer ligroth --

    Scorn of me recoils on you !

    Learn to h

    Nobly, as thing is high ;

    Bravely, as for life and death --

    ity.

    Lead ive boards,

    Point o tarry skies,

    Guard ruthful words,

    Pure from courtsteries.

    By your trutrue --

    Ever true, as wives of yore --

    And o you,

    ShALL be Yes for evermore.

 The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers

    the breaking waves dashed high

    On a stern and rock-bound coast,

    And t a stormy sky,

    t brancost;

    And t hung dark

    ter oer,

    heir bark

    On the wild New England shore.

    Not as the conqueror comes,

    true-ed, came;

    Not irring drums,

    And trumpet t sings of fame;

    Not as the flying come,

    In silence and in fear, -

    ts gloom

    ity cheer.

    Amidst torm they sang,

    And tars he sea;

    And the dim woods rang

    to the free.

    the ocean-eagle soared

    From  by te waves foam,

    And t roared -

    their welcome home!

    th hoary hair

    Amidst t pilgrim band:

    o here,

    Aheir childhoods land?

    there was womans fearless eye,

    Lit by ruth;

    there was manhoods brow serenely high,

    And t of youth.

    soughus afar?

    Brighe mine?

    the spoils of war? -

    t a faiths pure shrine!

    Ay, call it holy ground,

    t trod!

    t unstained hey found -

    Freedom to worship God!

 The Look

    ter. Ay, no word,

    No gesture of reproache heavens serene

    tice, did not lean

    t he forsaken Lord

    Looked only, on traitor. None record

    t look hose who have seen

    ronged lovers loving th-pang keen,

    Or pale-cyrs smiling to a sword,

    t-call.

    And Peter, from t of blasphemy--

    I never knehis man --did quail and fall

    As knoraig GOD; and turned free

    And  out speeche face of all

    And filled tterly.

 The Meaning Of The Look

    I t look of C migo say--

    ter ! art tone

    last must break my  upon

    For all Gods co his high angels may

    Guard my foot better ? Did I yesterday

    as, my beloved, t they should run

    Quick to deny me neathe morning sun ?

    And do t, betray ?

    t

    A late contrition, but no bootless fear !

    For w,

    t not be denied, as I am here;

    My voice to God and angels stest,

    Because I KNO t him be clear.

 The Poet And The Bird

    Said a people to a poet--- Go out from among us straightway!

    of divine.

    ttle fair broing in teways

    Makes fitter music to our ears thine!

    t  out ingale ceased cing;

    Noness done?

    I cannot sing my eart ing,

    under sun.

    t  out  there---

    to housand wails:---

    And,  there

    as only of ts song, and not tingales.

 The Prisoner

    I count time by months and years

    Since last I felt t,

    And t breathings summer-

    Met mine upon my lips. Noh appears

    As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres

    Or ts of . Natures lute

    Sounds on, be,

    A strange o the prisoners ears,

    Dilated by tance, till the brain

    Gro feels too

    h a visionary pain,

    Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine

    Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden train

    Of sunlit ransfigured to Divine.

 The Runaway Slave at Pilgrims Point

    I.

    I stand on the shore

    Of t we pilgrims bended knee,

    urned to ancestor,

    And God y.

    I , my skin is as dark,

    I bend my knee dohis mark . . .

    I look on the sea.

    II.

    O pilgrim-souls, I speak to you!

    I see you come out proud and slow

    From ts pale as dew. . .

    And round me and round me ye go!

    O pilgrims, I have gasped and run

    All nighe whips of one

    ho in your names works sin and woe.

    III.

    And t t I would come

    And kneel  before,

    And feel your souls around me hum

    In undertone to the oceans roar;

    And lift my black face, my black hand,

    o curse this land

    Ye blessed in freedoms evermore.

    IV.

    I am black, I am black;

    And yet God made me, they say.

    But if he did so, smiling back

    his work away

    Under t of e creatures,

    it tures

    Migrodden again to clay.

    V.

    And yet hings

    to be glad and merry as light.

    ttle dark bird sits and sings;

    tream ripples out of sight;

    And t in the safe morass,

    And test stars are made to pass

    Oer t night.

    VI.

    But we who are dark, we are dark!

    Aars!

    About our souls in care and cark

    Our blackness ss like prison bars:

    the poor souls crouch so far behind,

    t never a comfort can they find

    By reache prison-bars.

    VII.

    Indeed, he sky, . . .

    t great smootretc

    On all herly,

    to bless t,

    his low place,

    All opened straigo his face

    Into ternity.

    VIII.

    And still Gods suns,

    t, they make us cold,

    As if  black and lost:

    And ts and birds, in wood and fold,

    Do fear and take us for very men!

    Could t of the glen

    Look into my eyes and be bold?

    IX.

    I am black, I am black!--

    But, once, I laughed in girlish glee;

    For one of my colour stood in track

    me--

    And tender and full he look he gave:

    Could a slave look so at another slave?--

    I look at the sea.

    X.

    And from t s grew

    As free as if unsold, unbought:

    Orong enougwo

    to conquer t!

    the drivers drove us day by day;

    e did not mind,  one way,

    And no better a liberty sought.

    XI.

    In the canes,

    ;I love youquot; as he passed:

    he rains,

    I  fast:

    As ,

    the hurricanes.

    XII.

    I sang ead of a song;

    Over and over I sang his name--

    Up along

    My various notes; the same!

    I sang it lo the slave-girls near

    Mig they could hear,

    It was only a name.

    XIII.

    I look on the sea--

    e o love, and to pray,--

    Yes, thee,

    t thou say.

    Coldly tst behe sun!

    And now I cry w one,

    to-day?--

    XIV.

    e were black, we were black!

    e o love and bliss:

    marvel, if eacurned to lack?

    t of his,--

    to touch

    ! . . . not much,

    Ye pilgrim-souls, . . . this!

    XV.

    rong, followed by a deeper wrong!

    Mere griefs too good for such as I.

    So te men broughe shame ere long

    to strangle the sob of my agony.

    t leave me for my dull

    et eyes!--it oo merciful

    to let me ears and die.

    XVI.

    I am black, I am black!--

    I wore a c

    An amulet t oo slack,

    And, in my unrest, could not rest:

    t moaning, cher,

    One to anoto another,

    Until all ended for t:

    XVII.

    For ell you low . . . Iow . . .

    I am black, you see,--

    And the babe who lay on my bosom so,

    as far too oo we for me;

    As o pray

    Beside me at c yesterday;

    tears had washed a place for my knee.

    XVIII.

    My own, own c bear

    to look in  was so we.

    I covered here;

    I covered ight:

    And ruggled, as  be,

    For te ced y--

    ed er right.

    XIX.

    ,

    tle feet t never grew--

    ruck t, as it ,

    Against my  to break it through.

    I might have sung and made him mild--

    But I dared not sing to te-faced child

    the only song I knew.

    XX.

    I pulled the kerchief very close:

    see the sun, I swear,

    More, than now he does

    From bets of the mango . . . where

    . . . I know wher

    Do o look at one another,

    hen one is black and one is fair.

    XXI.

    single glance I had

    Of my cell you all,

    I sa made me mad . . .

    ters look, t used to fall

    On my soul like his lash . . . or worse!

    And so, to save it from my curse,

    I ted it round in my shawl.

    XXII.

    And rembled from foot to head,

    o foot;

    till, after a time, ead

    too suddenly still and mute.

    I felt, beside, a stiffening cold, . . .

    I dared to lift up just a fold . . .

    As in lifting a leaf of t.

    XXIII.

    But my fruit . . . here, had been

    (I laugo t at this hour! . . .)

    Your fine we angels, who have seen

    Nearest t of Gods power, . . .

    And plucked my fruit to make them wine,

    And sucked t child of mine,

    As the flower.

    XXIV.

    rick of te!

    te c so.

    I said not a , day and night,

    I carried to and fro;

    And it lay on my  like a stone . . . as chill.

    --t as much as he will:

    I am cold, t h ago.

    XXV.

    From te mans ,

    I carried ttle body on,

    ts arms did round us s,

    And silence trees did run:

    tion as I ,--

    tood too onis,--

    t on hrone.

    XXVI.

    My little body, kerc,

    I bore it on t . . . on:

    And  ired at last,

    I scooped a he moon.

    t-tops the angels far,

    ite sar,

    Did point and mock at w was done.

    XXVII.

    Yet , . . .

    Eart me and my baby, strewed,

    All, co black earte, . . .

    A dark che dark,--ensued

    Some comfort, and my  grew young:

    I sate dohere and sung

    t in my maidenhood.

    XXVIII.

    And two were reconciled,

    te chus:

    For, as I sang it, soft and wild

    the same song, more melodious,

    Rose from te!

    It ,

    to join th of us.

    XXIX.

    I look on the sky!

    anchored lay,

    th gloriously;

    But ts have slid away

    t streaks of the morn.

    My face is black, but it glares h a scorn

    meet by day.

    XXX.

    Aead, ter sons!

    A in a ring--

    Keep off! I brave you all at once--

    I t sting!

    You  nest, I think:

    Did you never stand still in your triumph, and shrink

    From troke of her wounded wing?

    XXXI.

    (Man, drop t stone you dared to lift!--)

    I ,

    Eac,

    A little corpse as safely at rest

    As mine in t she

    May keep live babies on her knee,

    And sing t.

    XXXll.

    I am not mad: I am black.

    I see you staring in my face--

    I knoaring, shrinking back--

    Ye are born of ton-race:

    And the free America:

    And t . . . (I prove w I say)

    Ropes tied me up o the flogging-place.

    XXXIII.

    You t a sound!

    I he sun.

    I only cursed them all around,

    As softly as I might have done

    My very own chese sands

    Up to tains, lift your hands,

    O slaves, and end w I begun!

    XXXIV.

    anshose!

    For in t

    two kinds of men in adverse rows,

    Eac

    ts body fair;

    hile hE sees gaping everywhere

    Our countless  pay no debt.

    XXXV.

    Our . Your we men

    Are, after all, not gods indeed,

    Nor able to make Cs again

    Do good h bleeding. e who bleed . . .

    (Stand off!) we  in our loss!

    e are too heavy for our cross,

    And fall and crush you and your seed.

    XXXVI.

    I fall, I s the sky:

    the clouds are breaking on my brain;

    I am floated along, as if I should die

    Of libertys exquisite pain--

    In te cing for me

    In th-dark where we may kiss and agree,

    e men, I leave you all curse-free

    In my broken s disdain!

 The Seraph and Poet

    t

    God-One, and in the Seven,

    And e

    hers

    arm -borns slumber in t

    t sings upon th grave-riven,

    Before ty world, soon self-forgiven

    For wronging

    From s.

    Even so,

    Sing, seraphe glory ! heaven is high;

    Sing, poet h is low:

    the universes inward voices cry

    Amen  to either song of joy and woe:

    Sing, serap,--sing on equally !

 The Seraph and the Poet

    t

    God-One, and in the Seven,

    And e

    hers

    arm -borns slumber in t

    t sings upon th grave-riven,

    Before ty world, soon self-forgiven

    For wronging

    From s.

    Even so,

    Sing, seraphe glory ! heaven is high;

    Sing, poet h is low:

    the universes inward voices cry

    Amen  to either song of joy and woe:

    Sing, serap,--sing on equally !

 The Souls Expression

    Itammering lips and insufficient sound

    I strive and struggle to deliver right

    t music of my nature, day and night

    it and feeling interwound

    And inly anshe senses round

    itaves of a mystic dept

    ep out grandly to te

    From the sensual ground.

    truggle to outbear

    tals of the sense, sublime and whole,

    And utter all myself into the air:

    But if I did it,--as thunder-roll

    Breaks its own cloud, my fleshere,

    Before t dread apocalypse of soul.

 The Two Sayings

    tures beat

    Like pulses in t;

    And by t in our unrest

    And,  deep in salt-tears, do yet entreat

    Gods fellows.

    t is JESUS EPt,--w

    Full many a sobbing face t drops its best

    And sest ers on t:

    And one is w, denied and scorned

    LOOKED UPON PEtER. Oo render plain

    By tle and mourned,

    t look of sovran love and sovran pain

    sin yet suffered, turned

    On  but not sustain !

 The Weakest Thing

    thing of all

    Mine  can ponder?

    ttle cloud can pall

    ith darkness yonder?

    ttle wind can move

    listeth?

    ttle leaf above,

    teth?

    time t yellow leaf was green,

    My days were gladder;

    But now, wever Spring may mean,

    I must grow sadder.

    Ah sighs can wring

    My lips asunder -

    t t thing

    Itself can ponder.

    Yet, , when sun and cloud are pined

    And drop together,

    And at a blast, w wind,

    ts her,

    thly curse

    to glory breakest, -

    trongest of the universe

    Guarding t!

 To

    Mine is a wayward lay;

    And, if its ecry to string,

    Provetruant thing,

    away!

    For then, eyes swimming oer,

    And clasped ,

    Are muc --

    So it had fain begone, and speak no more!

    Yet s come again,

    Ahy wishes be,

    And, h wild melody,

    I rain --

    Cadence my simple line,

    Unfas,

    But coming from my ,

    to tell ts love to thine!

    As ocean saken

    From Oceans bed,

    music s --

    Evn so true to my , shall waken!

    Oh! while our bark is seen,

    Our little bark of kindly, social love,

    Doream to move

    tohe summer shores, where all is green --

    So long thy name shall bring,

    Eco teful gales,

    And tender tales,

    to fress t round thee cling!

    t lookd upon

    ts of the field in lowly dress?

    Blame not my simpleness --

    think only of my love! -- my song is gone.

 To Flush, My Dog

    Loving friend, t of one

    rue faith has run

    ture,

    Be my benediction said

    ithy head,

    Gentle felloure!

    Like a ladys ringlets brown,

    Flohy silken ears adown

    Either side demurely

    Of ted breast

    S from all t

    Of thy body purely.

    Darkly brohy body is,

    till triking this

    Alcs dullness,

    he sleek curls manifold

    Flaso gold

    ith a burnished fulness.

    Underneatroking hand,

    Startled eyes of hazel bland

    Kindling, growing larger,

    Up t h a spring,

    Full of prank and curveting,

    Leaping like a charger.

    Leap! tail ,

    Leap! t are bright,

    Canopied in fringes;

    Leap! tasselled ears of thine

    Flicker strangely, fair and fine

    Doheir golden inches

    Yet, my pretty, sportive friend,

    Little ist to such an end

    t I praise thy rareness;

    Othy peers

    hese drooping ears

    And this glossy fairness.

    But of t shall be said,

    tched beside a bed

    Day and night unweary,

    atcained room

    he gloom

    Round the sick and dreary.

    Roses, gathered for a vase,

    In t chamber died apace,

    Beam and breeze resigning;

    ted on,

    Kno w is gone

    Love remains for shining.

    Othymy dew

    tracked through

    Sunny moor or meadow;

    t and crept

    Next a languid c slept,

    She shadow.

    Other dogs of loyal cheer

    Bounded at tle clear,

    Up the woodside hieing;

    tched in reach

    Of a faintly uttered speech

    Or a louder sighing.

    And if one or tears

    Dropped upon his glossy ears

    Or a sigh came double,

    Up e,

    Fa,

    In a tender trouble.

    And tisfied

    If a pale thin hand would glide

    Down his dewlaps sloping, --

    hin,

    After, -- platforming his chin

    On t open.

    this dog, if a friendly voice

    Call o blither choice

    than such chamber-keeping,

    Come out! praying from the door, --

    Presseth backward as before,

    Up against me leaping.

    to this dog will I,

    tenderly not scornfully,

    Render praise and favor:

    ith my hand upon his head,

    Is my benediction said

    therefore and for ever.

    And because he loves me so,

    Better than his kind will do

    Often man or woman,

    Give I back more love again

    ten take of men,

    Leaning from my human.

    Blessings on thee, dog of mine,

    Pretty collars make thee fine,

    Sugared milk make fat thee!

    Pleasures ail,

    le motion fail

    Nevermore, to pat thee

    Doake thy head,

    Silken coverlid bestead,

    Sunshy sleeping!

    No flys buzzing hee up,

    No man break thy purple cup

    Set for drinking deep in.

    s arointed flee,

    Sturdy stoppers keep from thee

    Cologne distillations;

    Nuts lie in tones,

    And t-day macaroons

    turn to daily rations!

    Mock I thee, in wishing weal? --

    tears are in my eyes to feel

    t made so straitly,

    Blessing needs must straiten too, --

    Little canst thou joy or do,

    t greatly.

    Yet be blessed to t

    Of all good and all delight

    Pervious to ture;

    Only loved beyond t line,

    it anshine,

    Loving felloure!

 To George Sand: A Desire

    ted man,

    Self-called George Sand ! whe lions

    Of tumultuous senses, moans defiance

    And anss can:

    I hunder ran

    Above the applauded circus, in appliance

    Of tures strength and science,

    Drawo pinions, we as wings of swan,

    From trong so amaze the place

    it ! t to womans claim

    And mans, mig join beside the angels grace

    Of a pure genius sanctified from blame

    till co thine embrace

    to kiss upon tainless fame.

 To George Sand: A Recognition

    tRUE genius, but true  deny

    ture h a manly scorn

    And break as worn

    By ivity?

    A revolted cry

    Is sobbed in by a womans voice forlorn, _

    ter, all unshorn

    Floats back disrength in agony

    Disproving thy mans name: and while before

    t in a poet-fire,

    e see t beat evermore

    t purer, , and higher,

    till God unsex the heavenly shore

    e spirits purely aspire !

 Two Sayings, The

    tures beat

    Like pulses in t;

    And by t in our unrest

    And,  deep in salt-tears, do yet entreat

    Gods fellows.

    t is JESUS EPt,--w

    Full many a sobbing face t drops its best

    And sest ers on t:

    And one is w, denied and scorned

    LOOKED UPON PEtER. Oo render plain

    By tle and mourned,

    t look of sovran love and sovran pain

    sin yet suffered, turned

    On  but not sustain !

 V

    I lift my  up solemnly,

    As once Electra her sepulchral urn,

    And, looking in turn

    t t. Behold and see

    a great heap of grief lay hid in me,

    And he red wild sparkles dimly burn

    t in scorn

    Could tread t to darkness utterly,

    It mig if instead

    t beside me for to blow

    t up, . . . thine head,

    O my Beloved,  shee so,

    t none of all the fires shall scorch and shred

    tand farthen ! go.

 VI

    Go from me. Yet I feel t I sand

    hy shadow. Nevermore

    Alone upon threshold of my door

    Of individual life, I shall command

    t my hand

    Serenely in the sunshine as before,

    it t which I forbore--

    touc land

    Doom takes to part us, leaves t in mine

    it beat double.  I do

    And he wine

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue

    God for myself,  name of thine,

    And sees ears of two.

 VII

    think,

    Since first I steps of thy soul

    Move still, oill, beside me, as tole

    Bet me and ter brink

    Of obvious deat to sink,

    as caugo love, and taughe whole

    Of life in a new rhe cup of dole

    God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,

    And praise its sness, S, hee anear.

    try, heaven, are changed away

    For here or here;

    And te and song . . . loved yesterday,

    (the singing angels know) are only dear

    Because t in hey say.

 VIII

    can I give thee back, O liberal

    And princely giver, w broughe gold

    And purple of t, unstained, untold,

    And laid tside of the-wall

    For suco take or leave hal,

    In unexpected largesse ? am I cold,

    Ungrateful, t for t manifold

    s, I render not all ?

    Not so; not cold,--but very poor instead.

    Ask God ears have run

    t so dead

    And pale a stuff, it  fitly done

    to give to thy head.

    Go fart it serve to trample on.

 Weakest Thing, The

    thing of all

    Mine  can ponder?

    ttle cloud can pall

    ith darkness yonder?

    ttle wind can move

    listeth?

    ttle leaf above,

    teth?

    time t yellow leaf was green,

    My days were gladder;

    But now, wever Spring may mean,

    I must grow sadder.

    Ah sighs can wring

    My lips asunder -

    t t thing

    Itself can ponder.

    Yet, , when sun and cloud are pined

    And drop together,

    And at a blast, w wind,

    ts her,

    thly curse

    to glory breakest, -

    trongest of the universe

    Guarding t!

 Work

    are  on earto toil;

    Nor seek to leave tending of the vines

    For all t o till it declines,

    And Deaths mild curfew shall from work assoil.

    God did anoint th his odorous oil,

    to le, not to reign; and he assigns

    All tears over, like pure crystallines,

    For younger fellohe soil

    to s. So others shall

    take patience, labor, to t and hand

    From t and thy brave cheer,

    And Gods grace fructify to

    t floand,

    And ss deher near.

 Work And Contemplation

    t her spinning-wheel

    A pleasant c, ballad or barcarole;

    She whole,

    Far more t the reel

    Is full, and artfully her fingers feel

    itment, provident control,

    too subtly ted to unroll--

    Out to a perfect thread. I hence appeal

    to tian C we may do

    Our Fatemples mirk,

    t and steadfast, tent and strong;

    from toil, our souls pursue

    Some une, and prove our work

    tter for tness of our song.

 X-IV

    t love on, ternity.

    quot;I love her for her smile--her look--her way

    Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed

    Of love even, as a good thing of my own:

    t long, and lose thereby !

    And placed it by throne,--

    to live on still in love, and yet in vain,--

    Indeed t,

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    A melanc

    tys wiping my cheek dry,--

    From t same love ting grace,

    to ttermost,

    As trembling knees t fail

    And o brow,

    Doth a ruby large enow

    to pipe no tingale

    to climb Aornus, and can scarce avail

    May be unwrougher love me for

    Of self, and show

    Be c,

    May be unwrougher love me for

    And to love can be desert,

    I love t

    And ation. Fire is bright,

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    t falls in es brought

    And ures

    Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:

    I s love  thou

    Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

    If t love me, let it be for nought

    to bless t renounce to thy face.

    A creature mig to weep, who bore

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say

    I love her for her smile--her look--her way

    I am not of thy place !

    Out of my face tohing low

    to bear t,--

    t love on, ternity.

    it proceed

    to t is plain

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light

    Of speaking gently,--for a trick of t

    A sense of pleasant ease on such a day--

    I am not all unhy. Cheeks as pale

    And yet, because I love tain

    s while loving so.

    tc and weak,

    For themselves, Beloved, may

    In love,  creatures

    I stand transfigured, glorified aright,

    If t love me, let it be for nought

    Be c,

    t long, and lose thereby!

    And love called love. And t speak

    XIV (If t love me, let it be for nougrong>

    XII

    Of speaking gently,--for a trick of t

    to dra,--

    Except for loves sake only. Do not say

    But love me for loves sake, t evermore

    trel-life t once

    t eyes h mine were crossed,

    And t I love (O soul,  be meek !)

    A sense of ease on suc;

 XIX~XLIV

    Ohis world of ours !

    I  gainsay love, called love forsooth.

    I alked in my early youth,

    And since, not so long back but t the flowers

    till. Mussulmans and Giaours

    t a smile, and h

    For any ooth

    Slips on t if, after frequent showers,

    t so much

    ill turn to e

    Or else to oblivion. But t not such

    A lover, my Beloved ! t

    to bring souls to touch,

    And t soon e.

    XLI

    I ts,

    ito all

    tle near the prison-wall

    to s louder parts

    Ere t ons

    Or temples occupation, beyond call.

    But thou, who, in my voices sink and fall

    ook it, t Arts

    Orument didst drop do t

    to  I said betears, . . .

    Instruct me o to s

    My souls full meaning into future years,

    t t utterance, and salute

    Love t endures, from Life t disappears !

    My future  copy fair my past--

    I e t once; and t my side

    My ministering life-angel justified

    t

    to te turned at last,

    And tead, sa unallied

    to angels in tried

    By natural ills, received t fast,

    t, my pilgrims staff

    Gave out green leaves h morning dews impearled.

    I seek no copy no half:

    Leave h long musing curled,

    And e me neures epigraph,

    New angel mine, unhe world !

    me count the ways.

    I love to t

    My soul can reac of sight

    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    I love to the level of everydays

    Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

    I love trive for Right;

    I love turn from Praise.

    I love t to use

    In my old griefs, and h.

    I love to lose

    it saints,--I love th,

    Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,

    I s love tter after death.

    Beloved, t brought me many flowers

    Plucked in through

    And er, and it seemed as if they grew

    In the sun and showers.

    So, in t love of ours,

    take back ts woo,

    And whdrew

    From my s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers

    Be overgroter weeds and rue,

    And  t ine,

    ake to do

    t pine.

    Instruct to keep true,

    And tell ts are left in mine.

 XV~XX

    Accuse me not, beseec I wear

    too calm and sad a face in front of thine;

    For  shine

    it on our brow and hair.

    On me t ing care,

    As on a bee s in a crystalline;

    Since sorrow  me safe in loves divine,

    And to spread er air

    ere most impossible failure, if I strove

    to fail so. But I look on thee--

    Behe end of love,

    hearing oblivion beyond memory;

    As one ws and gazes from above,

    Over to tter sea.

    And yet, because t so,

    Because t more noble and like a king,

    t prevail against my fears and fling

    till my  shall grow

    too close against t o know

    shook when alone. hy, conquering

    May prove as lordly and complete a thing

    In lifting upward, as in crushing low !

    And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword

    to one ws h,

    Even so, Beloved, I at last record,

    rife. If te me forth,

    I rise above abasement at the word.

    Make to enlarge my h.

    My poet, t touces

    God set between er and Before,

    And strike up and strike off the general roar

    Of t floats

    In a serene air purely. Antidotes

    Of medicated music, answering for

    Mankinds forlornest uses, t pour

    From to tes

    to suco  on thine.

    ,  t use ?

    A o sing by gladly ? or a fine

    Sad memory, o interfuse ?

    A so sing--of palm or pine ?

    A grave, on  from singing ? Choose.

    I never gave a lock of hair away

    to a man, Dearest, except to thee,

    fully,

    I ring out to th and say

    take it. My day of yout yesterday;

    My o my foots glee,

    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,

    As girls do, any more: it only may

    Now swo pale cears,

    taug hangs aside

    trick. I t the funeral-shears

    ould take t, but Love is justified,--

    take it those years,

    t here when she died.

    to s merchandise;

    I barter curl for curl upon t mart,

    And from my poets foreo my

    Receive tweighs argosies,--

    As purply black, as erst to Pindars eyes

    tresses gloomed at

    te Muse-broerpart, . . .

    the bay-crowns shade, Beloved, I surmise,

    Still lingers on t is so black !

    t of smooth,

    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,

    And lay t wh;

    , as on to lack

    No natural  till mine groh.

    And  to speech

    thee, finding words enough,

    And orc, whe winds are rough,

    Beto cast light on each ?--

    I drop it at t. I cannot teach

    My o  so far off

    From myself--me--t I shee proof

    In words, of love  of reach.

    Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

    Commend my o thy belief,--

    Seeing t I stand unwon, however wooed,

    And rend t of my life, in brief,

    By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

    Lest one touc convey its grief

 XXI-XXV

    Say over again, and yet once over again,

    t t love me. ted

    S treat it,

    Remember, never to the hill or plain,

    Valley and  rain

    Comes ted.

    Beloved, I, amid ted

    By a doubtful spirit-voice, in t doubts pain

    Cry,  Speak once more--t !  ho can fear

    too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,

    too many flohe year ?

    Say t love me, love me, love me--toll

    terance !--only minding, Dear,

    to love me also in silence hy soul.

    and up erect and strong,

    Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

    Until to fire

    At eit,--ter wrong

    Can to us, t we s long

    Be ented ? ting higher,

    the angels would press on us and aspire

    to drop some golden orb of perfect song

    Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

    Rat

    Contrarious moods of men recoil away

    And isolate pure spirits, and permit

    A place to stand and love in for a day,

    it.

    Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,

    ouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ?

    And hee more coldly shine

    Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?

    I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read

    t so in tter. I am thine--

    But . . . so muco thy wine

    remble ? tead

    Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.

    the on me !

    As brig count it strange,

    For love, to give up acres and degree,

    I yield thy sake, and exchange

    My near s view of hee !

    Let the worlds sharpness, like a clasping knife,

    S in upon itself and do no harm

    In t and warm,

    And let us rife

    After tting. Life to life--

    I lean upon t alarm,

    And feel as safe as guarded by a charm

    Against tab of worldlings, who if rife

    Are o injure. Very ill

    the lilies of our lives may reassure

    ts, accessible

    Alone to  drop not fewer,

    Groraig of mans reache hill.

    God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

    A , Beloved, have I borne

    From year to year until I sahy face,

    And sorroer sorroook the place

    Of all tural joys as lightly worn

    As tringed pearls, eaced in its turn

    By a beating  at dance-time. hopes apace

    ere co long despairs, till Gods own grace

    Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn

    My . t bid me bring

    And let it drop ado

    Deep being ! Fast it sinkething

    s oure dotate,

    , mediating

    Bet tars and te.

 XXVI-XXX

    I lived h visions for my company

    Instead of men and women, years ago,

    And found tle mates, nor t to know

    A so me.

    But soon trailing purple  free

    Of t, tes did silent grow,

    And I myself gre and blind below

    t come--to be,

    Beloved, s,

    tter, yet the same,

    As river-er o fonts),

    Met in t thee overcame

    My soul isfaction of all s:

    Because Gods gifts put mans best dreams to shame.

    My oed me

    From t of earthrown,

    And, in bet ts, blown

    A life-breatill the forehead hopefully

    S again, as all the angels see,

    Before thy saving kiss ! My own, my own,

    to me whe world was gone,

    And I whee !

    I find trong, and glad.

    As one wands in dewless asphodel

    Looks backedious time he had

    In th bosom-swell,

    Make ness, he good and bad,

    t Love, as strong as Deatrieves as well.

    My letters ! all dead paper, mute and we !

    And yet they seem alive and quivering

    Against my tremulous ring

    And let to-night.

    to

    Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring

    to come and touching,

    Yet I  for it !--t . . .

    Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed

    As if Gods future t.

    ts ink has paled

    it my  t beat too fast.

    And thy words have ill availed

    If,  at last !

    I ts do twine and bud

    About t a tree,

    Put out broad leaves, and soon t to see

    Except traggling green whe wood.

    Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood

    I  s instead of thee

    dearer, better ! Ratantly

    Renerong tree should,

    Rustle t trunk all bare,

    And let thee

    Drop , stered, everywhere !

    Because, in to see and hee

    And breathy shadow a new air,

    I do not too near thee.

    I see tears to-night,

    And yet to-day I sahee smiling. how

    Refer t thou

    Or I, we

    Amid ted joy and te

    May so fall flat, e brow,

    On tar-stair. I hy voice and vow,

    Perplexed, uncertain, since t out of sight,

    As he choirs Amen.

    Beloved, dost thou love ? or did I see all

    ted when

    too ve liged my ideal,

    For my souls eyes ? ill t light come again,

    As noears come--falling  and real ?

 XXXI-XXXV

    t ! all is said  a word.

    I sit beneathy looks, as children do

    In t tremble through

    their happy eyelids from an unaverred

    Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred

    In t last doubt ! and yet I cannot rue

    And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.

    Of his ?

    Into the music of heavens undefiled,

    through my obedience. hen I answer now,

    it serenely interpose:

    Brood dohy divine sufficiencies

    th

    t time t th

    And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

    to slacken all too soon

    Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change ?

    Quick-loving s, I t, may quickly loathe;

    And, looking on myself, I seemed not one

    For suc-of-tune

    orn viol, a good singer h

    to spoil ce,

    Is laid do t ill-sounding note.

    to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove;

    Lo, the same,

    From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,

    Alas, I o love.

    And be all to me ? Shall I never miss

    Yes, call me by my pet-name ! let me hear

    to run at, when a child,

    ts hose,

    to glance up in some face t proved me dear

    its eyes. I miss the clear

    Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled

    alk and blessing and the common kiss

    Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,

    t, but t wo

    Be o te.

    Gato complete th,

    t s . If to conquer love, ried,

    Like callo desert to the skies.

    it,  .

    it, I said, Ill anshee

    A  strains may float

    thou dovelike help ! and, when my fears would rise,

    Perplexed and ruffled by lifes strategy ?

    old ily

    I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game,

    to run and ans came

    At play last moment, and  on h me

    to love me, I looked foro the moon

    I drop a grave t, break from solitude;

    Yet still my  goes to thee--ponder how--

    Not as to a single good, but all my good !

    Lay t, best one, and allow

    t no c could run fast as this blood.

    n te.

    XXXV

    If I leave all for t thou exchange

    S stand unministered

    Neater-ruments defaced,--

    t comes to eacurn, nor count it strange,

    o drop on a new range

    As t call me by my name--

    Nay,  t place by me which is

    I did not  I placed

    Yes, call me by t name,--and I, in truth,

    For grief indeed is love and grief beside.

    Yet love me-- t wide,

    And fold  hy dove.

 XXXVI-XXXIX

    Sloo ings, quick s  O,

    first and loved, I did not build

    Upon t  mean

    to last, a love set pendulous between

    Sorrohrilled,

    Distrusting every lig seemed to gild

    to overlean

    A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

    And strong since t God has willed

    A still reneroth . . .

    Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

    tual kiss drop doh

    As an unohe lips being cold.

    And Love, be false ! if o keep one oath,

    Must lose one joy, by ar foretold.

    Because t to see,

    Of all t strong divineness which I know

    For thee, an image only so

    Formed of t to s and break.

    It is t distant years ake

    ty, recoiling h a blow,

    o undergo

    t and dread, and blindly to forsake

    ty of likeness and distort

    t love to a erfeit:

    As if a s,

    o commemorate,

    S a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

    And vibrant tail, emple-gate.

    First time  only kissed

    te;

    And ever since, it grew more clean and we,

    Pardon, o my soul should make,

    I could not ,

    t first kiss. t

    t, and soughe forehead, and half missed,

    he hair. O beyond meed !

    t he chrism of love, which loves own crown,

    itifying sness, did precede.

    third upon my lips was folded down

    In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

    I have been proud and said,  My love, my own.

    Because t t the grace

    to look this mask of me

    (Against hus blanchingly

    itrue face,

    tness of lifes race,--

    Nor all wired of all, self-viewed,--

    t same souls distracting lethargy,

    tient angel ing for a place

    In the new heavens,--because nor sin nor woe,

    Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighborhood,

    Nor all o go,

    Not, teach me so

    to pour out gratitude, as t, good !