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Beat time to nothing in my head
From some odd corner of the brain.
With weary sameness in the rhymes,
That went and came a thousand times.
In lazy mood
And there a vision caught my eye;
A glowing arm, a gleaming neck,
Within the dark and dimpled beck.
That morhing, on the casement's edge
And you were leaning from the ledge: akunta
They met with two so full and bright-
That I should die an early death:
And fill'd the breast with purer breath,
For I was alter'd, and began
Thro' quiet meadows round the mill,
The pool beneath it never still,
The dark round of the dripping wheel,
air about the door
When April nights began to blow,
use ül And April's crescent glimmer'd cold,
I saw the village lights below;
e fresti came, mope. Upon The deep brook groal'a beneath the mill ;
And “by that lamp," I thought, “she sits !” The white chalk-quarry from the hill
Gleam'd to the flying moon by fits.
O will she answer if I call ?
And, in the pauses of the wind,
Sometimes your shadow cross'd the blind.
And the long shadow of the chair
And all the casement darken'd there.
when at last I dared to speak,
Flush'd like the coming of the day; "comenty, And so it was— half-sly, half-shy,
You would, and would not, little one!
And you and I were all alone.
To yield consent to my desire :
I might have look'd a little higher;
“ Yet must I love her for your sake;
Her eyelid quiverdgas she spake.
Too fearful that you should not please.
I knew you could not look but well;
And dews, that would have fall’n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell.
20 I watch'd the little flutterings,
The doubt my mother would not see; She spoke at large of many things,
And at the last she spoke of me; And turning look'd upon your face,
As near this door you sat apart, And rose, and, with a silent grace
Approaching, press'd you heart to heart. Ah, well—but sing the foolish song
I gave you, Alice, on the day When, arm in arm, we went along,
A pensive pair, and you were gay With bridal flowers —that I may seem,
As in the nights of old, to lie
And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That trembles at her ear:
About her dainty dainty waist,
In sorrow and in rest :
And all day long to fall and rise
With her laughter or her sighs,
True love interprets-right alone.
For all the spirit is his own.
His early rage Had force to make me rhyme in youth,
And makes me talk too much in age.
And now those vivid hours are gone,
Like mine own life to me thou art, Where Past and Present, wound in one,
Do make a garland for the heart : So sing that other song I made,
Half-anger'd with my happy lot,
Ah, no! no !
Look thro' mine eyes with thine. True wife,
Round my true heart thine arms entwine; My other dearer life in life,
Look thro' my very soul with thine ! Untouch'd with any shade of years,
May those kind eyes for ever dwell! They have not shed a many tears,
Dear eyes, since first I knew them well. Yet tears they shed: they had their part
Of sorrow : for when time was ripe, The still affection of the heart
Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again,
And left a want unknown before ; Although the loss that brought us pain, That loss but made us love the more,
s With farther lookings on.
The kiss, The woven arms, seem but to be Weak symbols of the settled bliss,
The comfort, I have found in thee:
Two spirits to one equal mind-
With blessings which no words can find.
Fatima o della
me Arise, and let us wander forth,
To yon old mill across the wolds, For look, the sunset, south and north,
Winds all the vale in rosy folds, And fires your narrow casement glass,
Touching the sullen pool below: On the chalk-hill the bearded grass
Is dry and dewless. (1853)
Let us go
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth:
swift blood that went and came
O Love, O fire ! once he drew
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. !
In my dry brain my spirit soon,