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And the squirrel leaps adown,
In the ocean's ear.
**While floating up bright forms ideal,
Mistress, or friend, around me stream;
I do not doubt that the music of the two concluding lines mingled, though very unconsciously, with my own dream,' and gave their form and pressure to the above distich. The ideas however being sufficiently distinct, I am satisfied with sending this note to the press after my verses, and with acknowledging another obligation to the valued friend to whom I already owe so Dany. 1844.
Harken, harken! The child is shouting at his play Just in the tramping funeral's way. The widow moans as she turns aside To shun the face of the blushing bride, While shaking the tower of the ancient church, The marriage bells do swing. And in the shadow of the porch An idiot sits, with his lean hands full Of hedgerow flowers and a poet's skull, Laughing loud and gibbering, Because it is so brown a thing, While he sticketh the gaudy poppies red .In and out the senseless head Where all sweet fancies grew instead. And you may hear at the self-same time, Another poet who reads his rhyme, Low as a brook in the summer air,-Save when he droppeth his voice adown, To dream of the amaranthine crown His mortal brows shall wear. And a baby cries with a feeble sound 'Neath the weary weight of the life new-found. And an old man groans,— with his testament Only half-signed, -for the life that's spent. And lovers twain do softly say, As they sit on a grave, 'For aye, for aye.' And foemen twain, while earth their mother Looks greenly upward, curse each other. A school-boy drones his task, with looks Cast over the page to the elm-tree rooks. A lonely student cries aloud Eureka! clasping at his shroud.
A beldame's age-cracked voice doth sing
All senses into one,-
(For whom did backward roll
Striking, and in its stroke, resembling
The cup, with a sudden trembling.
Saying, “O thou that movest
And spill its purple wine,Look up to heaven and see how like a scroll, My right hand hath thine immortality In an eternal grasping! thou, that lovest The songful birds and grasses underfoot, And also what change mars and tombs polluteI am the end of love !-give love to Me! O thou that sinnest, grace doth more abound Than all thy sin! sit still beneath my rood, And count the droppings of my victim-blood,
And seek none other sound !'
And not the voice of God?
GRIEF sate upon a rock and sighed one day,
(Sighing is all her rest!) • Wellaway, wellaway, ah, wellaway!' As ocean beat the stone, did she her breast, Ah, wellaway!.. ah me! alas, ah me!'
Such sighing uttered she.
A cloud spake out of heaven, as soft as rain
That falls on water,—'Lo, The Winds have wandered from me! I remain Alone in the sky-waste, and cannot go To lean my whiteness on the mountain blue
Till wanted for more dew.
“The Sun has struck my brain to weary peace,
Whereby constrained and pale I spin for him a larger golden fleece Than Jason's, yearning for as full a sail. Sweet Grief, when thou hast sighed to thy mind,
Give me a sigh for wind.