The fourscore windows all alight In inmost Bagdat, till there seem'd To celebrate the golden prime Six columns, three on either side, With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold. Thereon, his deep eye laughter-stirr'd Sole star of all that place and time, For sure she deem'd no mist of earth could dull Those spirit-thrilling eyes so keen and beautiful: Sure she was nigher to heaven's spheres, Listening the lordly music flowing from The illimitable years. O strengthen me, enlighten me! Or boldest since, but lightly weighs With thee unto the love thou bearest The first-born of thy genius. Artistlike, Ever retiring thou dost gaze On the prime labor of thine early days: No matter what the sketch might be; Whether the high field on the bushless Pike, Or even a sand-built ridge Of heaped hills that mound the sea, Where from the frequent bridge, The trenched waters run from sky to MYSTERY of mysteries, But beyond expression fair Take the heart from out my breast. Wherefore those dim looks of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline? II. Whence that aery bloom of thine, Of a maiden past away, Ere the placid lips be cold? III. What hope or fear or joy is thine? For sure thou art not all alone: Hast thou heard the butterflies To the mosses underneath? Hast thou look'd upon the breath Of the lilies at sunrise? Wherefore that faint smile of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline? IV. Some honey-converse feeds thy mind, Some spirit of a crimson rose In love with thee forgets to close And those dew-lit eyes of thine, V. Lovest thou the doleful wind When thou gazest at the skies? Doth the low-tongued Orient Wander from the side of the morn, Dripping with Sabaan spice On thy pillow, lowly bent With melodious airs lovelorn, Breathing Light against thy face, While his locks a-drooping twined Round thy neck in subtle ring Make a carcanet of rays, And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill? Hence that look and smile of thine, Spiritual Adeline. A CHARACTER. Of this most intricate Universe He spake of beauty: that the dull Life in dead stones, or spirit in air; And said the earth was beautiful. He spake of virtue: not the gods He saw thro' life and death; thro' good and ill, He saw thro' his own soul. The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll, Before him lay: with echoing feet he threaded The secretest walks of fame : The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed And wing'd with flame, Like Indian reeds blown from his silver tongue, And of so fierce a flight, From Calpe unto Caucasus they sung, Filling with light And vagrant melodies the winds which bore Them earthward till they lit; Then, like the arrow-seeds of the field flower, The fruitful wit All day and all night it is ever drawn From the brain of the purple moun tain Which stands in the distance yonder" It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven above, And it sings a song of undying love; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and full, You never would hear it; your ears are so dull; So keep where you are: you are foul with sin; It would shrink to the earth if you came in. THE SEA-FAIRIES. SLOW Sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest To little harps of gold; and while they mused, Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea. Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore ? Day and night to the billow the foun. tain calls; Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the cloverhill swells High over the full-toned sea: O hither, come hither and furl your sails, Come hither to me and to me : Here it is only the mew that wails; And merrily, merrily carol the gales, bay. And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand; Hither, come hither and see; wave, And sweet is the color of cove and cave, |