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So close were rose and lip together twined,

A double flower that from one bud had blown, Till none could tell, so sweetly were they blended, Where swelld the curving lip, or where the rose-bloom


One, half-asleep, crushing the twinèd flowers,

Upon a velvet slope like Dian lay;
Still as a lark that 'mid the daisies cowers :

Her loop'd-up tunic, toss'd in disarray,
Show'd rounded limbs too fair for earthly bowers;

They look'd like roses on a cloudy day,
The warm white dull'd amid the colder green;
The flowers too rough a couch that lovely shape to screen.
Some lay like Thetis' nymphs along the shore,

With ocean-pearl combing their golden locks, And singing to the waves for evermore;

Sinking like flowers at eve beside the rocks, If but a sound above the mufiled roar

Of the low waves was heard. In little flocks Others went trooping through the wooded alleys, Their kirtles glancing white, like streams in sunny valleys. They were such forms as, imaged in the night,

Sail in our dreams across the heavens' steep blue; When the closed lid sees visions streaming bright,

Too beautiful to meet the naked view, Like faces form'd in clouds of silver light.

Women they were ! such as the angels knew Such as the Mammoth look'd on, ere he fled, Scared by the lovers' wings, that stream'd in sunset red.


A Dream of Winter changed to Spring. I DREAM'D that, as I wander'd by the way,

Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring, And gentle odours led my steps astray,

Mix'd with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay

Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,

But kiss'd it and then fled, as Thou mightest in dream.

There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,

Daisies, those pearl'd Arcturi of the earth,
The constellated flower that never sets;

Faint oxlips ; tender blue-bells, at whose birth
The sod scarce heaved ; and that tall flower that wets
Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears,
When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears.
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,

Green cow-bind and the moonlight-colour'd May,
And cherry-blossoms, and white-cups, whose wine

Was the bright dew yet drain'd not by the day; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine

With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray ; And flowers azure, black, and streak'd with gold,

Fairer than any waken'd eyes behold. And nearer to the river's trembling edge

There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white, And starry river-buds among the sedge,

And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge

With moonlight beams of their own watery light; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green

As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.
Methought that of these visionary flowers

I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
That the same hues, which in their natural bowers

Were mingled or opposed, the like array
Kept these imprison'd children of the Hours

Within my hand-and then, elate and gay,
I hastend to the spot whence I had come,
That I might there present it-O! to Whom?


To the Naisy.
With little here to do or see
Of things that in the great world be,
Daisy ! again I talk to thee,

For thou art worthy;
Thou unassuming Common-place
Of Nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace

Which Love makes for thee!

Oft on the dappled turf at ease
I sit and play with similes,
Loose types of things through all degrees, ·

Thoughts of thy raising :
And many a fond and idle name
I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,

While I am gazing.
A nun demure of lowly port;
Or sprightly maiden of Love's court,
In thy simplicity the sport

Of all temptations ;
A queen in crown of rubies drest;
A starveling in a scanty vest;
Are all, as seems to suit thee best,

Thy appellations.
A little cyclops, with one eye
Staring, to threaten and defy,
That thought comes next-and instantly

The freak is over,
The shape will vanish, and behold
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some fairy bold

In fight to cover!

I see thee glittering from afar-
And then thou art a pretty star;
Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee!
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;-
May peace come never to his nest

Who shall reprove thee!

Bright Flower! for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,
I call thee, and to that cleave fast,

Sweet silent creature !
Tbat breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature !


Stanzas written in Dejection near Naples.

THE sun is warm, the sky is clear,

The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear

The purple noon's transparent light; The breath of the moist air is light

Around its unexpanded buds; Like many a voice of one delight,

The winds', the birds', the ocean-floods', The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's.

I see the Deep's untrampled floor

With green and purple sea-weeds strown: I see the waves upon the shore,

Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown: I sit upon the sands alone,

The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone

Arises from its measured motion, How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion.

Alas! I have nor hope nor health,

Nor peace within nor calm around,
Nor that content surpassing wealth

The sage in meditation found,
And walk'd with inward glory crown'd-

Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure.
Others I see whom these surround-

Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

Yet now despair itself is mild,

Even as the winds and waters are ;
I could lie down like a tired child,

And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear,

Till death like sleep might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air

My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.


A Dream.

I HEARD the dogs bark in the moonlight night,
And I went to the window to see the sight;
All the dead that ever I knew
Going one by one, and two by two.

On they pass'd, and on they pass'd;
Town's-fellows all from first to last;
Born in the moonlight of the lane,
And quench'd in the heavy shadow again.
School-mates marching as when we play'd
At soldiers once-but now more staid;
Those were the strangest sights to me
Who were drown'd, I knew, in the awful sea.

Straight and handsome folk ; bent and weak too;
And some that I loved, and gasp'd to speak to;
Some just buried a day or two,
And some of whose death I never knew.

A long, long crowd-where each seem'd lonely;
And yet of them all there was one, one only
That raised a head or look'd my way,
And she seem'd to linger, but might not stay.

How long since I saw that fair pale face!
Ah, mother dear! might I only place
My head on thy breast, a moment to rest,
While thy hand on my tearful cheek were prest !

On, on, a moving bridge they made
Across the moon-stream from shade to shade:
Young and old, and women and men ;
Many long-forgot, but remember'd then.

And first there came a bitter laughter;
And a sound of tears the moment after ;
And then a music so lofty and gay,
That every morning, day by day,
I strive to recall it if I may.


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