Hurrying wind o'er the heavens's hollow And the heavy rain to follow.

PARTED PRESENCE.

LOVE, I speak to your heart,
Your heart that is always here.
Oh draw me deep to its sphere,
Though you and I are apart;
And yield, by the spirit's art,
Each distant gift that is dear.
O love, my love, you are here!

Your eyes are afar to-day,

Yet, love, look now in mine eyes.
Two hearts sent forth may despise
All dead things by the way.
All between is decay,

Dead hours and this hour that dies,
O love, look deep in mine eyes!

Your hands to-day are not here,

Yet lay them, love, in my hands. The hourglass sheds its sands All day for the dead hours' bier; But now, as two hearts draw near, This hour like a flower expands. O love, your hands in my hands!

Your voice is not on the air,

Yet, love, I can hear your voice :
It bids my heart to rejoice
As knowing your heart is there,—
A music sweet to declare

The truth of your steadfast choice.
O love, how sweet is your voice!

To-day your lips are afar,

Yet draw my lips to them, love.
Around, beneath, and above,
Is frost to bind and to bar;

But where I am and you are,
Desire and the fire thereof.
O kiss me, kiss me, my love!
Your heart is never away,

But ever with mine, for ever,
For ever without endeavor,
To-morrow, love, as to-day;
Two blent hearts never astray,
Two souls no power may sever,
Together, O my love, for ever!

A DEATH-PARTING.

LEAVES and rain and the days of the year, (Water-willow and wellaway,)

All these fall, and my soul gives ear, And she is hence who once was here. (With a wind blown night and day.)

Ah! but now, for a secret sign,

(The willow's wan and the water white,) In the held breath of the day's decline Her very face seemed pressed to mine. (With a wind blown day and night.)

O love, of my death my life is fain;

(The willows wave on the water-way,) Your cheek and mine are cold in the rain, But warm they'll be when we meet again. (With a wind blown night and day.)

Mists are heaved and cover the sky;

(The willows wail in the waning light,) O loose your lips, leave space for a sigh,— They seal my soul, I cannot die.

(With a wind blown day and night.)

Leaves and rain and the days of the year, (Water-willow and wellaway,)

All still fall, and I still give ear,
And she is hence, and I am here.

(With a wind blown night and day.)

SPHERAL CHANGE.

In this new shade of Death, the show
Passes me still of form and face;
Some bent, some gazing as they go,
Some swiftly, some at a dull pace,
Not one that speaks in any case.

If only one might speak!-the one
Who never waits till I come near;
But always seated all alone

As listening to the sunken air,
Is gone before I come to her.

O dearest! while we lived and died
A living death in every day,
Some hours we still were side by side,
When where I was you too might stay
And rest and need not go away.

O nearest, furthest! Can there be

At length some hard-earned heart-won home,

Where, exile changed for sanctuary,

Our lot may fill indeed its sum,

And you may wait and I may come?

SUNSET WINGS.

TO-NIGHT this sunset spreads two golden wings
Cleaving the western sky;

Winged too with wind it is, and winnowings
Of birds; as if the day's last hour in rings
Of strenuous flight must die.

Sun-steeped in fire, the homeward pinions sway
Above the dovecote-tops;

And clouds of starlings, ere they rest with day,
Sink, clamorous like mill-waters, at wild play,
By turns in every copse:

Each tree heart-deep the wrangling rout receives,— Save for the whirr within,

You could not tell the starlings from the leaves; Then one great puff of wings, and the swarm heaves Away with all its din.

Even thus Hope's hours, in ever-eddying flight,

To many a refuge tend;

With the first light she laughed, and the last light
Glows round her still; who natheless in the night
At length must make an end.

And now the mustering rocks innumerable
Together sail and soar,

While for the day's death, like a tolling knell,
Unto the heart they seem to cry, Farewell,
No more, farewell, no more!

Is Hope not plumed, as 't were a fiery dart?
And oh thou dying day,

Even as thou goest must she too depart,
As Sorrow fold such pinions on the heart
As will not fly away?

SONG AND MUSIC.

O LEAVE your hand where it lies cool
Upon the eyes whose lids are hot :
Its rosy shade is bountiful

Of silence, and assuages thought.

O lay your lips against your hand

And let me feel your breath through it, While through the sense your song shall fit The soul to understand.

The music lives upon my brain.

Between your hands within mine eyes;
It stirs your lifted throat like pain,
An aching pulse of melodies.
Lean nearer, let the music pause:
The soul may better understand
Your music, shadowed in your hand,
Now while the song withdraws.

THREE SHADOWS.

I LOOKED and saw your eyes
In the shadow of your hair,
As a traveller sees the stream
In the shadow of the wood;
And I said, "My faint heart sighs,
Ah me! to linger there,
To drink deep and to dream
In that sweet solitude."

I looked and saw your heart
In the shadow of your eyes,
As a seeker sees the gold

In the shadow of the stream;
And I said, "Ah me! what art

Should win the immortal prize,
Whose want must make life cold

And Heaven a hollow dream?"

I looked and saw your love
In the shadow of your heart,
As a diver sees the pearl

In the shadow of the sea;
And I murmured, not above
My breath, but all apart,-
"Ah! you can love, true girl,
And is your love for me?"

ALAS, SO LONG!

AH! dear one, we were young so long,
It seemed that youth would never go,
For skies and trees were ever in song
And water in singing flow

In the days we never again shall know.
Alas, so long!

Ah! then was it all Spring weather?
Nay, but we were young and together.