Hero and maiden, flesh of her flesh; She drugs her water and her wheat With the flavors she finds meet, And gives them what to drink and eat; They do her bidding, nothing loath. But borrowed in atoms from iron and stone, And in their vaunted works of Art The master-stroke is still her part. THE ROMANY GIRL. HE sun goes down, and with him takes THE The coarseness of my poor attire; The fair moon mounts, and aye the flame Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher. Pale Northern girls! you scorn our race; But leave us the horizon walls. And if I take you, dames, to task, And say it frankly without guile, If, on the heath, below the moon, I court and play with paler blood, Go, keep your cheek's rose from the rain, The rocks and forest know it real. The wild air bloweth in our lungs, The keen stars twinkle in our eyes, You doubt we read the stars on high, DAYS. DAMSELS of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day THE CHARTIST'S COMPLAINT.. AY! hast thou two faces, DAY Making one place two places? One, by humble farmer seen, Chill and wet, unlighted, mean, Useful only, triste and damp, Serving for a laborer's lamp? Have the same mists another side, To be the appanage of pride, Gracing the rich man's wood and lake, And treacherously bright to show His planted isle where roses glow? O Day! and is your mightiness |