THE SEA-FAIRIES. SLOW sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea. Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore ? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls: From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells High over the full-toned sea: O hither, come hither and furl your sails, Come hither to me and to me: Hither, come hither and frolic and play; Here it is only the mew that wails; For here are the blissful downs and dales, And the spangle dances in bight and bay, And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand; Hither, come hither and see; And the rainbow hangs on the poising wave, And sweet shall your welcome be: O hither, come hither, and be our lords, For merry brides are we : We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words: With pleasure and love and jubilee : () listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er? Whither away? listen and stay: mariner, mariner, fly no more. THE DESERTED HOUSE. LIFE and Thought have gone away Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they! All within is dark as night: Close the door, the shutters close, Or thro' the windows we shall see Of the dark deserted house. Come away: no more of mirth Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth, Come away for Life and Thought But in a city glorious A great and distant city have bought Would they could have stayed with us! THE DYING SWAN. THE plain was grassy, wild, and bare, An under-roof of doleful gray. And loudly did lament. And took the reed-tops as it went. Some blue peaks in the distance rose, One willow over the river wept, Chasing itself at its own wild will, And far thro' the marish green and still Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow. The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear; As when a mighty people rejoice With shawms, and with cymbals, and harps of gold, And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd Thro' the open gates of the city afar, To the shepherd who watcheth the evening star. And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds, A DIRGE. Now is done thy long day's work; Shadows of the silver birk Sweep the green that folds thy grave. Thee nor carketh care nor slander; Light and shadow ever wander Thou wilt not turn upon thy bed; Crocodiles wept tears for thee; Drip sweeter dews than traitor's tear. Rain makes music in the tree O'er the green that folds thy grave. Round thee blow, self-pleached deep, And long purples of the dale. These in every shower creep The gold-eyed kingcups fine, Kings have no such couch as thine, Wild words wander here and there: The balm-cricket carols clear Ir the green that folds thy grave. LOVE AND DEATH. WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light "You must begone," said Death, "these walks are mine.' Love wept and spread his sheeny vans for flight; Yet ere he parted said, "This hour is thine : Thou art the shadow of life, and as the tree So in the light of great eternity Life eminent creates the shade of death; |