With her five handmaidens, whose names
Are five sweet symphonies,
Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen,
Margaret and Rosalys.

'Circlewise sit they, with bound locks
And foreheads garlanded;
Into the fine cloth white like flame
Weaving the golden thread,

To fashion the birth-robes for them
Who are just born, being dead.

'He shall fear, haply, and be dumb:
Then will I lay my cheek

To his, and tell about our love,

Not once abashed or weak: And the dear Mother will approve

My pride, and let me speak.

'Herself shall bring us, hand in hand,
To Him round whom all souls
Kneel, the clear-ranged unnumbered heads
Bowed with their aureoles:
And angels meeting us shall sing

To their citherns and citoles.

"There will I ask of Christ the Lord

Thus much for him and me :

Only to live as once on earth

With Love, only to be,

As then awhile, for ever now
Together, I and he.'

She gazed and listened and then said,

Less sad of speech than mild,—

All this is when he comes.' She ceased.
The light thrilled towards her, fill'd

With angels in strong level flight.
Her eyes prayed, and she smil'd.

(I saw her smile.) But soon their path Was vague in distant spheres:

And then she cast her arms along
The golden barriers,

And laid her face between her hands,
And wept. (I heard her tears.)

LOVE'S NOCTURN.

MASTER of the murmuring courts
Where the shapes of sleep convene !-
Lo! my spirit here exhorts

All the powers of thy demesne
For their aid to woo my queen.
What reports

Yield thy jealous courts unseen?

Vaporous, unaccountable,

Dreamland lies forlorn of light, Hollow like a breathing shell.

Ah! that from all dreams I might Choose one dream and guide its flight! I know well

What her sleep should tell to-night.

There the dreams are multitudes :

Some that will not wait for sleep,

Deep within the August woods;

Some that hum while rest may steep
Weary labor laid a-heap;

Interludes,

Some, of grievous moods that weep.

Poet's fancies all are there ;

There the elf-girls flood with wings

Valleys full of plaintive air;

There breathe perfumes; there in rings Whirl the foam-bewildered springs; Siren there

Winds her dizzy hair and sings.

Thence the one dream mutually

Dreamed in bridal unison, Less than walking ecstasy;

Half-formed visions that make moan
In the house of birth alone;
And what we

At death's wicket see, unknown.

But for mine own sleep, it lies
In one gracious form's control,
Fair with honorable eyes,

Lamps of a translucent soul :
O their glance is loftiest dole,
Sweet and wise,

Wherein Love descries his goal.

Reft of her, my dreams are all
Clammy trance that fears the sky:
Changing footpaths shift and fall;
From polluted coverts nigh,
Miserable phantoms sigh;
Quakes the pall,

And the funeral goes by.

Master, is it soothly said

That, as echoes of man's speech
Far in secret clefts are made,

So do all men's bodies reach
Shadows o'er thy sunken beach,-
Shape or shade

In those halls portrayed of each ?
Ah! might I, by thy good grace
Groping in the windy stair,
(Darkness and the breath of space
Like loud waters everywhere),
Meeting mine own image there
Face to face,

Send it from that place to her!
Nay, not I; but oh! do thou,
Master, from thy shadow kind
Call my body's phantom now:
Bid it bear its face declin'd
Till its flight her slumbers find,
And her brow

Feel its presence bow like wind.

Where in groves the gracile Spring
Trembles, with mute orison
Confidently strengthening,

Water's voice and wind's as one
Shed an echo in the sun.

Soft as Spring,

Master, bid it sing and moan.

Song shall tell how glad and strong
Is the night she soothes alway;
Moan shall grieve with that parched tongue
Of the brazen hours of day :
Sounds as of the springtide they,
Moan and song,

While the chill months long for May.

Not the prayers which with all leave
The world's fluent woes prefer,-
Not the praise the world doth give,
Dulcet fulsome whisperer;-
Let it yield my love to her,
And achieve

Strength that shall not grieve or err.

Wheresoe'er my dreams befall,
Both at night-watch (let it say),
And where round the sun-dial
The reluctant hours of day,
Heartless, hopeless of their way,
Rest and call ;-

There her glance doth fall and stay.
Suddenly her face is there :

So do mounting vapors wreathe
Subtle-scented transports where

The black fir-wood sets its teeth
Part the boughs and looks beneath,-
Lilies share

Secret waters there, and breathe.

Master, bid my shadow bend

Whispering thus till birth of light, Lest new shapes that sleep may send Scatter all its work to flight ;—

Master, master of the night,
Bid it spend

Speech, song, prayer, and end aright.

Yet, ah me! if at her head

There another phantom lean
Murmuring o'er the fragrant bed,—
Ah! and if my spirit's queen
Smile those alien words between,-
Ah! poor shade!

Shall it strive, or fade unseen?

How should love's own messenger
Strive with love and be love's foe?
Master, nay! If thus, in her,

Sleep a wedded heart should show,—
Silent let mine image go,
Its old share

Of thy spell-bound air to know.

Like a vapor wan and mute,

Like a flame, so let it pass;

One low sigh across her lute,

One dull breath against her glass;
And to my sad soul, alas!
One salute

Cold as when death's foot shall pass.

Then, too, let all hopes of mine,

All vain hopes by night and day,

Slowly at thy summoning sign

Rise up pallid and obey.

Dreams, if this is thus, were they :-
Be they thine,

And to dreamworld pine away.

Yet from old time, life, not death,
Master, in thy rule is rife :

Lo! through thee, with mingling breath,
Adam woke beside his wife.

O Love bring me so, for strife,
Force and faith,

Bring me so not death but life!