THE SISTERS. WE were two daughters of one race : The wind is blowing in turret and tree. She died she went to burning flame: The wind is howling in turret and tree. Whole weeks and months, and early and late, To win his love I lay in wait: O the Earl was fair to see! I made a feast; I bad him come ; I won his love, I brought him home. The wind is roaring in turret and tree. And after supper, on a bed, O the Earl was fair to see! I kiss'd his eyelids into rest: I rose up in the silent night: I made my dagger sharp and bright. I curl'd and comb'd his comely head, The wind is blowing in turret and tree. I wrapt his body in the sheet, And laid him at his mother's feet. O the Earl was fair to see! ΤΟ WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM. I SEND YOU here a sort of allegory, (For you will understand it) of a soul, And Knowledge for its beauty; or if Good, That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge, are three sisters That doat upon each other, friends to man, And never can be sunder'd without tears. And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be THE PALACE OF ART. I BUILT my soul a lordly pleasure-house, I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse, A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass, Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf And "while the world runs round and round,” I said, Still as, while Saturn whirls, his stedfast shade To which my soul made answer readily: "Trust me, in bliss I shall abide In this great mansion, that is built for me, Four courts I made, East, West and South and North, And round the cool green courts there ran a row And round the roofs a gilded gallery That lent broad verge to distant lands, From those four jets four currents in one swell In misty folds, that floating as they fell Lit up a torrent-bow. I |