THOU art mine, thou hast given thy word;
Close, close in my arms thou art clinging;
Alone for my ear thou art singing
A song which no stranger hath heard:
But afar from me yet, like a bird,
Thy soul, in some region unstirred,
On its mystical circuit is winging.

Thou art mine, I have made thee mine own;

Henceforth we are mingled forever:

But in vain, all in vain, I endeavor — Though round thee my garlands are thrown, And thou yieldest thy lips and thy zone To master the spell that alone

My hold on thy being can sever.

Thou art mine, thou hast come unto me! But thy soul, when I strive to be near it

The innermost fold of thy spirit Is as far from my grasp, is as free, As the stars from the mountain-tops be, As the pearl, in the depths of the sea, From the portionless king that would wear it.

THE DISCOVERER

I HAVE a little kinsman

Whose earthly summers are but three,
And yet a voyager is he

Greater than Drake or Frobisher,
Than all their peers together!
He is a brave discoverer,

And, far beyond the tether

Of them who seek the frozen Pole,

Has sailed where the noiseless surges roll.

Ay, he has travelled whither
A winged pilot steered his bark
Through the portals of the dark,
Past hoary Mimir's well and tree,
Across the unknown sea.

Suddenly, in his fair young hour, Came one who bore a flower, And laid it in his dimpled hand With this command: "Henceforth thou art a rover ! Thou must make a voyage far, Sail beneath the evening star, And a wondrous land discover." - With his sweet smile innocent Our little kinsman went.

Since that time no word
From the absent has been heard.

Who can tell

How he fares, or answer well
What the little one has found
Since he left us, outward bound?
Would that he might return!
Then should we learn

From the pricking of his chart
How the skyey roadways part.
Hush! does not the baby this way bring,
To lay beside this severed curl,
Some starry offering
Of chrysolite or pearl ?

Ah, no! not so!
We may follow on his track,
But he comes not back.
And yet I dare aver

He is a brave discoverer

Of climes his elders do not know.
He has more learning than appears
On the scroll of twice three thousand

years,

A one-eyed Cyclops halted long

In tattered cloak of army pattern,
And Galatea joined the throng, -
A blowsy, apple-vending slattern;
While old Silenus staggered out
From some new-fangled lunch-house
handy,

And bade the piper, with a shout,
To strike up Yankee Doodle Dandy!

A newsboy and a peanut-girl

Like little Fauns began to caper:

His hair was all in tangled curl,

Her tawny legs were bare and taper; And still the gathering larger grew, And gave its pence and crowded nigher, While aye the shepherd-minstrel blew His pipe, and struck the gamut higher.