HEAR now a curious dream I dreamed last night,
Each word whereof is weighed and sifted truth.
I stood beside Euphrates while it swelled
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Was she an orphan? —can another grief
So wholly chasten? —can another woe
So sanctify? —for she was (as a leaf
With whom, then, should I sleep? perhaps with thee,
And gaze into those eyes, those deep sad eyes,
Feeling the drowsy touch of thy vast wings.
CHILD, the hours that breathe around thee
Know thee most divinely fair ;
In its love the last enwound thee,
And the next shall take thy hair
It was deep April, and the morn
Shakespere was born;
The world was on us, pressing sore;
My Love and I took hands and swore,
A Girl,
Her soul a deep-wave pearl
Dim, lucent of all lovely mysteries;
A face flowered for heart's ease,
My love is lessened and must soon be past.
I never promised such persistency
In its condition. No, the tropic tree
"O LOVE, lean thou thy cheek to mine,
And let the tears together flow"—
Such was the song you sang to me
Once, long ago.
"I promise nothing: friends will part;
All things may end, for all began;
And truth and singleness of heart
Are mortal even as is man.
But this unlucky love should last
When answered pass
Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you)
We stood together in an open field ;
Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled,
I love her with the seasons, with the winds,
As the stars worship, as anemones
Shudder in secret for the sun, as bees
HOW like her ! But 'tis she herself, Comes up the crowded street,How little did I think, the morn,
At a London Music Two rows of foolish faces blent In two blurred lines; the compliment,
My life is bitter with thy love ; thine eyes
Blind me, thy tresses burn me, thy sharp sighs
Divide my flesh and spirit with soft sound,
I.
SHE, who so long has lain
Stone-stiff with folded wings,
Within my heart again
The brown bird wakes and sings.
Brown nightingale, whose strain
Ave Faustina Imperatrix, morituri te salutant.
Lean back, and get some minutes' peace ;
Let your head lean
Back to the shoulder with its fleece
WHEN I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lust
"Oh, lost and unforgotten friend,Whose presence change and chance deny;If angels turn your soft proud eyeTo lines your cynic playmate penned,
MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry :
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy :
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Song.
I have loved you for long long years Ellen,
On you has my heart been set
I have loved you for long patient years,
But you do not love me yet.
Shake hands, we shall never be friends, it's all over;
I only vex you the more I try.
All's wrong that ever I've done or said,
WITH fruit and flowers the board is deckt,
The wine and laughter flow ;
I'll not complain—could one expect
So dull a world to know ?
I.
LIFT thy lips, turn round, look back for love,
Blind love that comes by night and casts out rest ;
Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,
O LOVE ! what shall be said of thee ?
The son of grief begot by joy ?
Being sightless, wilt thou see ?
Being sexless, wilt thou be
Maiden or boy ?
I.
BEHIND the Rector's lily-bed
I saw an Angel pass,
A halo shone behind her head
Behind the Rector's lily-bed,
It was the sun blushed fiery red.
You are to me the secret of my soul
And I to you what no man yet has been.
I, your Prometheus, fire from Heaven stole