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God of the Delphic fane, No more thou listenest to hymns sublime;

But they will leave

On winds at eve,
A solemn echo to the end of time.



LADY, wouldst thou heiress be

To Winter's cold and cruel part ? When he sets the rivers free,

Thou dost still lock up thy heart ;Thou that shouldst outlast the snow, But in the whiteness of thy brow ?


Scorn and cold neglect are made

For winter gloom and winter wind, But thou wilt wrong the summer air,

Breathing it to words unkind, Breath which only should belong To love, to sunlight, and to song !


When the little buds unclose,

Red, and white, and pied, and blue, And that virgin flow’r, the rose,

Opes her heart to hold the dew,
Wilt thou lock thy bosom up
With no jewel in its cup?


Let not cold December sit

Thus in Love's peculiar throne: Brooklets are not prison’d now,

But crystal frosts are all agone, And that which hangs upon the spray, It is no snow, but flow'r of May!



The Autumn skies are flush'd with gold,
And fair and bright the rivers run ;
These are but streams of winter cold,
And painted mists that quench the sun.


In secret boughs no sweet birds sing,
In secret boughs no bird can shroud ;
These are but leaves that take to wing,
And wintry winds that pipe so loud.


"Tis not trees' shade, but cloudy glooms
That on the cheerless valleys fall,
The flowers are in their grassy tombs,
And tears of dew are on them all.




Methought I saw
Life swiftly treading over endless space;
And, at her foot-print, but a bygone pace,
The ocean-past, which, with increasing wave,
Swallow'd her steps like a pursuing grave.

Sad were my thoughts that anchor’d silently
On the dead waters of that passionless sea,
Unstirr'd by any touch of living breath:
Silence hung over it, and drowsy Death,
Like a gorged sea-bird, slept with folded wings
On crowded carcases-sad passive things
That wore the thin grey surface, like a veil
Over the calmness of their features pale.

And there were spring-faced cherubs that did sleep
Like water-lilies on that motionless deep,
How beautiful! with bright unruffled hair
On sleek unfretted brows, and eyes that were
Buried in marble tombs, a pale eclipse !
And smile-bedimpled cheeks, and pleasant lips,
Meekly apart, as if the soul intense
Spake out in dreams of its own innocence :

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