DANTIS TENEBRÆ. (In Memory of my Father.) AND did'st thou know indeed, when at the font Decline her eyes according to her wont, Where to the hills her poet's foot-track lies BEAUTY AND THE BIRD. SHE fluted with her mouth as when one sips, And when he made an end, some seed took she And like the child in Chaucer, on whose tongue A grain, who straightway praised her name in song: Now turned on me and laughed, I heard the throng Of inner voices praise her golden head. A MATCH WITH THE MOON. WEARY already, weary miles to-night I walked for bed: and so, to get some ease, In ponds; and caught in tree-tops like a kite; Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish ; Last like a bubble shot the welkin's height Where my road turned, and got behind me, and sent My wizened shadow craning round at me, And jeered, 'So, step the measure, -one two three !'-- And if I faced on her, looked innocent. But just at parting, halfway down a dell, She kissed me for goodnight. So you'll not tell. AUTUMN IDLENESS. THIS Sunlight shames November where he grieves The deer gaze calling, dappled white and dun, Had marked them with the shade of forest-leaves. Here dawn to-day unveiled her magic glass; Here noon now gives the thirst and takes the dew; Till eve bring rest when other good things pass. Nor know, for longing, that which I should do. FAREWELL TO THE GLEN. SWEET stream-fed glen, why say 'farewell' to thee Who now fare forth in bitterer fantasy Than erst was mine where other shade might soothe By other streams, what while in fragrant youth The bliss of being sad made melancholy. And yet, farewell! For better shalt thou fare When children bathe sweet faces in thy flow And happy lovers blend sweet shadows there In hours to come, than when an hour ago Thine echoes had but one man's sighs to bear And thy trees whispered what he feared to know. |