VIII. TO HOMER. 'STANDING aloof in giant ignorance, Of thee I hear and of the Cyclades, So thou wast blind!-but then the veil was rent, And Pan made sing for thee his forest-hive; Such seeing hadst thou, as it once befel, 1818. 2 IX. ANSWER TO A SONNET ENDING THUS : "Dark eyes are dearer far Than those that mock the hyacinthine bell;' " By J. H. REYNOLDS. BLUE! "Tis the life of heaven,—the domain The bosomer of clouds, gold, grey and dun. And all its vassal streams: pools numberless May rage, and foam, and fret, but never can Subside, if not to dark-blue nativeness. Blue! gentle cousin of the forest-green, Married to green in all the sweetest flowers— Forget-me-not,the blue bell,—and, that queen Of secrecy, the violet: what strange powers Hast thou, as a mere shadow! But how great, When in an Eye thou art alive with fate! Feb. 1818. O THAT a week could be an age, and we To serve our joys would lengthen and dilate. O to arrive each Monday morn from Ind! To land each Tuesday from the rich Levant! In little time a host of joys to bind, And keep our souls in one eternal pant! This morn, my friend, and yester-evening taught Me how to harbour such a happy thought. ΤΟ ΧΙ. TIME's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb; And snared by the ungloving of thine hand. But I behold thine eyes' well memoried light; I cannot look upon the rose's dye, But to thy cheek my soul doth take its flight; I cannot look on any budding flower, But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips, And harkening for a love-sound, doth devour Its sweets in the wrong sense :-Thou dost eclipse Every delight with sweet remembering, And grief unto my darling joys dost bring. * A lady whom he saw for some few moments at Vauxhall. XII. TO SLEEP. O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight! O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, Then save me, or the passed day will shine Save me from curious conscience, that still lords Its strength, for darkness burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed casket of my soul. 1819. |