Where they like swallows coming out of time. And in we stream'd Among the columns, pacing staid and still At last a solemn grace Concluded, and we sought the gardens: there In this hand held a volume as to read, And smoothed a petted peacock down with that: Some to a low song oar'd a shallop by, Or under arches of the marble bridge Hung, shadow'd from the heat: some hid and sought In the orange thickets: others tost a ball Above the fountain-jets, and back again With laughter: others lay about the lawns, Of the older sort, and murmur'd that their May Was passing what was learning unto them? : They wish'd to marry; they could rule a house; Sat muffled like the Fates; and often came Of gentle satire, kin to charity, That harm'd not: then day droopt; the chapel bells Before two streams of light from wall to wall, The work of Ida, to call down from Heaven SWEET and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. III. MORN in the white wake of the morning star There while we stood beside the fount, and watch'd Or seem'd to watch the dancing bubble, approach'd Melissa, tinged with wan from lack of sleep, Or grief, and glowing round her dewy eyes "And fly," she cried, "O fly, while yet you may! My mother knows :" and when I ask'd her "how," "My fault" she wept, "my fault! and yet not mine; |