SONGS.

273

Till the starlight of heaven above us shall quiver,

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, And slips into the bosom of the lake;

As our souls flow in one down Eternity's So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip river.

Into my bosom and be lost in me

ALFRED TENNYSON.

IV.

So come in the evening, or come in the morning;

Come when you're looked for, or come without warning;

Kisses and welcome you'll find here before
you,

And the oft'ner you come here the more
I'll adore you!

Light is my heart since the day we were
plighted;

Red is my cheek that they told me was blighted;

The green of the trees looks far than ever,

greener

THE SHEPHERD'S IDYL.

COME down, O maid, from yonder mountain height!

What pleasure lives in height, (the shepherd
sang,)

In height and cold, the splendor of the hills?
But cease to move so near the Heavens, and

cease

To glide a sunbeam by the blasted pine,
To sit a star upon the sparkling spire;
And come! for Love is of the valley; come,
For Love is of the valley-come thou down

And the linnets are singing, "True lovers! And find him; by the happy threshold he, don't sever!"

THOMAS DAVIS.

Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize,
Or red with spirted purple of the vats,
Or foxlike in the vine; nor cares to walk
With Death and Morning on the Silver Horns,
Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine,
Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice,
That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls

NOW SLEEPS THE CRIMSON PETAL. To roll the torrent out of dusky doors.

white;

But follow! let the torrent dance thee down
To find him in the valley; let the wild,

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the Lean-headed eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill

Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;

Nor winks the gold-fin in the porphyry Their thousand wreaths of dangling waterfont:

The fire-fly wakens; waken thou with me.

Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,

And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

smoke,

That like a broken purpose waste in air;
So waste not thou; but come! for all the
vales

Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth
Arise to thee; the children call, and I,
Thy shepherd, pipe; and sweet is every sound,
Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet:

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the Myriads of riv'lets hurrying through the