Shall I not take care of all that I think, If I be dear to some one else, XVI ᄂ THIS lump of earth has left his estate O this is the day! O beautiful creature, what am I Think I may hold dominion sweet, Lord of the pulse that is lord of her breast, To the grace that, bright and light as the crest 2 What, if she be fasten'd to this fool lord, Should I love her so well if she Had given her word to a thing so low? Shall I love her as well if she Can break her word were it even for me? 3 Catch not my breath, O clamorous heart, XVII Go not, happy day, Till the maiden yields. Rosy is the South, And a rose her mouth. Over seas at rest, Blush it thro' the West ; Blush it thro' the West. Rosy is the West, Rosy is the South, Roses are her cheeks, And a rose her mouth. XVIII I I HAVE led her home, my love, my only friend. There is none like her, none. And never yet so warmly ran my blood And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long-wish'd-for end, Full to the banks, close on the promised good. None like her, none. 2 Just now the dry-tongued laurels' pattering talk Seem'd her light foot along the garden walk, And shook my heart to think she comes once more; But even then I heard her close the door, The gates of Heaven are closed, and she is gone. 3 There is none like her, none Nor will be when our summers have deceased. O, art thou sighing for Lebanon In the long breeze that streams to thy delicious East, Sighing for Lebanon, Dark cedar, tho' thy limbs have here increased, Upon a pastoral slope as fair, And looking to the South, and fed With honey'd rain and delicate air, Of her whose gentle will has changed my fate, Shadowing the snow-limb'd Eve from whom she came. 4 Here will I lie, while these long branches sway, And you fair stars that crown a happy day Go in and out as if at merry play, Who am no more so all forlorn, As when it seem'd far better to be born To labour and the mattock-harden'd hand, That makes you tyrants in your iron skies, Cold fires, yet with power to burn and brand 5 But now shine on, and what care I, Who in this stormy gulf have found a pearl 6 Would die; for sullen-seeming Death may give In our low world, where yet 'tis sweet to live. Let no one ask me how it came to pass; 7 Not die; but live a life of truest breath, And teach true life to fight with mortal wrongs. Maud made my Maud by that long lover's kiss, "The dusky strand of Death inwoven here With dear Love's tie, makes Love himself more dear." 8 Is that enchanted moan only the swell Of the long waves that roll in yonder bay? My own heart's heart and ownest own, farewell; And ye meanwhile far over moor and fell Beat to the noiseless music of the night! Has our whole earth gone nearer to the glow Of your soft splendours that you look so bright? Beat, happy stars, timing with things below, Beat with my heart more blest than heart can tell, That seems to draw-but it shall not be so: XIX I HER brother is coming back to-night, 2 My dream? do I dream of bliss? Darken'd watching a mother decline And that dead man at her heart and mine: 3 I trust that I did not talk To gentle Maud in our walk (For often in lonely wanderings Ì have cursed him even to lifeless things) Vext with lawyers and harass'd with debt: 4 And Maud too, Maud was moved Dying abroad and it seems apart From him who had ceased to share her heart, And ever mourning over the feud, The household Fury sprinkled with blood By which our houses are torn : That Maud's dark father and mine On the day when Maud was born; Seal'd her mine from her first sweet breath. Mine, mine by a right, from birth till death, Mine, mine-our fathers have sworn. |