And whistled to the morning-star. And while he whistled long and loud The sands and yeasty surges mix In caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks, And in thy heart the scrawl shall play." "Fool," he answer'd, "death is sure To those that stay and those that roam, But I will nevermore endure My father raves of death and wreck, They are all to blame, they are all to blame. "God help me! save I take my part Far worse than any death to me." THE ISLET. "WHITHER, O whither, love, shall we go, For a score of sweet little summers or so," The sweet little wife of the singer said, On the day that follow'd the day she was wed, Whither, O whither, love, shall we go?" 66 And the singer shaking his curly head Turn'd as he sat, and struck the keys In a shallop of crystal ivory-beak'd, With a satin sail of a ruby glow, To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know, Waves on a diamond shingle dash, Mixt with myrtle and clad with vine, "Thither, O thither, love, let us go." "No, no, no! For in all that exquisite isle, my dear, There is but one bird with a musical throat, "Mock me not! mock me not! love, let us go." 626 "No, love, no. THE RINGLET. For the bud ever breaks into bloom on the tree, THE RINGLET. "YOUR ringlets, your ringlets, If you will give me one, but one, To kiss it night and day, Then never chilling touch of Time Will turn it silver-gray; And then shall I know it is all true gold To flame and sparkle and stream as of old, "Then take it, love, and put it by; 2. 'My ringlet, my ringlet, That art so golden-gay, Now never chilling touch of Time Can turn thee silver-gray; And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint, For my doubts and fears were all amiss, "Then kiss it, love, and put it by: II. O Ringlet, O Ringlet, I kiss'd you night and day, And Ringlet, O Ringlet, But Ringlet, O Ringlet, You should be silver-gray : For what is this which now I'm told, She that gave you 's bought and sold, 2. O Ringlet, O Ringlet, She blush'd a rosy red, She clipt you from her head, She gave you me, and said, You golden lie. 3. O Ringlet, O Ringlet, I count you much to blame, For Ringlet, O Ringlet, You put me much to shame, So Ringlet, O Ringlet, I doom you to the flame. For what is this which now I learn, A WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA. MARCH 7, 1863. SEA-KINGS' daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet! Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers! Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher Roll as a ground-swell dash'd on the strand, Bride of the heir of the kings of the sea- Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be, We are each all Dane in our welcome of thee, Alexandra! A DEDICATION. DEAR, near, and true -no truer Time himself Shoots to the fall-take this and pray that he, if left to pass The fruit of the Spindle-tree (Euonymus Europæus). |