Of the thick-fleeced sheep from wattled folds, Upon the ridged wolds, When the first matin-song hath waken'd loud Over the dark dewy earth forlorn, What time the amber morn Forth gushes from beneath a low-hung cloud. 5. Large dowries doth the raptured eye To the young spirit present When first she is wed; And like a bride of old In triumph led, With music and sweet showers Of festal flowers, Unto the dwelling she must sway. With royal frame-work of wrought gold; For the discovery And newness of thine art so pleased thee, The first-born of thy genius. Artist-like, On the prime labour of thine early days: Of heaped hills that mound the sea, Or even a lowly cottage whence we see Stretch'd wide and wild the waste enormous marsh, Where from the frequent bridge, Like emblems of infinity, The trenched waters run from sky to sky; Or a garden bower'd close With plaited alleys of the trailing rose, Of crowned lilies, standing near Purple-spiked lavender : Whither in after life retired From brawling storms, From weary wind, With youthful fancy reinspired, We may hold converse with all forms And those whom passion hath not blinded, Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded. My friend, with you to live alone, Were how much better than to own SONG. 1. A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours For at eventide, listening earnestly, At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks ; Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks Of the mouldering flowers: Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. 2. The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. ADELINE. 1. MYSTERY of mysteries, Faintly smiling Adeline, Scarce of earth nor all divine, Nor unhappy, nor at rest, Thy rose-lips and full blue eyes Take the heart from out my breast. Wherefore those dim looks of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline? 2. Whence that aery bloom of thine, D |