lllllilllliliiiiiliiii !ill»f m THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES 44/1*7 / " « /f/z P O E -M- -S- 1!V A PAINTER cX () E M S BY A PAIXTKI! 1 Of muses, llobbiuoll, I conne no s»k ill, For they bene daughters of the highest love. And holden scorn of homely shepheards' quill ; For sith I heard that Pan with Phoebus strove, Which him tu much rebuke and daunger drove, 1 aerer list presume to Parnasse hill, lint {typing low in shad-.- of lowly grove, i plaj ty please myselfe, all be it ill." Tit-. Shepheard't Calend ■ WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SOXS UUNBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXI PKKFATOltY NOTE To account for the somewhat discrepant modes of thought and expression observahle in many of the poems in this Volume, the Author thinks it right to state that the period of their pro- duction has extended over many years, — the greater number of them, indeed, having been written in very early life, and without any view to publicity. 82545? CONTENTS, PAGE SYRINX, 1 LOST LIFE, 13 THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. — NO. I., 16 THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. — NO. II. 20 UULLODEN, 24 CAWNPORE, 25 ROSLIN CHAPEL, 20 "THROUGH THE WATERS," 27 ROY-LOVE, 37 FAIRY MADRIGAL, 39 FIORDESI'INA, 4 'J TDYL, 4!) SIR LAUNCELOT, 54 PAN AND SYRINX, 50 SONNET, 59 IN THE FOREST, 00 SONNET, 02 CIRCE, 63 AGNELLI NA, . . ' 70 EREME, 72 MOONLIGHT, 75 Ylll CONTEN T S. PACK DIRTY WEATHER 77 \ 1 1 >NE, 82 ARIADNE, 85 MONODY, '.'1 WINTER, 93 DIRGE, 95 WAR-SONG, 96 THE TOMB IN THE CHANCEL, ion SUMMER WIND, 102 Al njMN WIND, 108 THE SONG OF SILENUS, 104 KING GOLDIMAR, 110 NARCISSUS, . ♦ 112 THRENODY, 115 "my lady," 118 DEAD, 126 AN EXHORTATMN, .... 128 BONO, 129 11VMN TO APHRODITE, 132 tTONSENSE 187 UNDER TDK WESTERN STAR, 141 m>N<;, 148 THE STUDENT TO HIS WIFE, . 145 [■0 i m: m-mmi i: wind, . . . . 148 THE APOLLO OF THE VATICAN, 155 A CONFESSION 156 ST PETER'S : A TYPE, .... 157 AT VERONA, 158 AT FLORENCE, 159 POEMS BY A PAINTER. S YE I NX. Slowly the sunshine faded from the hill, And dewy twilight found him bending still, With hand on heart — as one who inly bleeds From a deep wound — beside the trembling reeds. Slowly love's star swam up, in bright unrest Far-throbbing o'er Lampeia's purple crest. Slowly, above the pine-wood's deepening shade, "White Artemis arose, as half afraid To view the mighty sorrow she had made ; A SYRINX. Arose, and gazed upon him silently; Then, sloping sadly down the western sky, Sank with a dreary murmur ; leaving him In darkness by the river's shadowy brim, Moveless and silent as an oak o'erthrown In some old forest ; — till a hollow groan Shuddered athwart the midnight. Syrinx heard Her lover's voice, and half in sorrow stirred — And stirring sighed — and sighing sought to twine Her leaves about him, lying there supine In utter loneliness ! The ruthful sound, The tender motion, from his deathly swound Of anguish roused him. Starting up, he cried Aloud, " Thou lov'st me ! They shall not divide- Those envious gods — the lover from his bride ! Thou shalt be mine ! to dwell with me afar In leafy places, where nor moon nor star Can watch our joy : save by our own glad eyen, For ever unespied ! Yes ! thou art mine : syrinx. : My sylvan queen ! I trowed thou couldst not know 'Twas Pan that loved — and scorn him. But, ah, woe ! Into the dark I stretch my arms in vain To clasp thee ; vacant they come hack again ! In vain I call thee ; to my yearning cry The rocks alone make faint and far reply, Or this hot life-hlood surging audibly About my listening heart ! . . . The stars look down, The old, familiar stars ! The solemn crown Of Erymanthus cleaves the purple gloom ; About my feet the beetles crisp and boom, And there the thy my grass is all a-gleam With glow-worms, as of old ! It is no dream ! ~No dream ! — Ai ! ai ! I shall behold no more Thy whiteness shame the lilies by the shore Of broad Alpheios, while his amorous wave Fawns at thy feet, alluring thee to lave In his green coolness. Never more behold — Couched in some root-woven antre mossy-old, 4 SYRINX. Deep iii the cedarn forest's dim recesses — The sunset burn within thy golden tresses, Or flush with rosy fire from neck to heel All thy disrobed beauty. Zeus ! I reel, Drunk with the maddening wine of love ! I die ! Life ebbs, despite my immortality, From out my being ! — ebbs, and leaves me dry As the hot desert, empty as the wind, And hungry as the sea ! Syrinx, be kind ! Where hid'st thou, sweet? It cannot, shall not be, These shivering reeds are all that lives of Thee ! " He ceased. There was a sighing in the ah, A flowery perfume breathing everywhere, A stirring as of pinions, and the beat On the husht ether of aerial feet ; While from the region of the western star Came, softly falling, music lovelier far Than aught of earth : a weird, mysterious strain, Thai o'ei his aching heart and burning brain SYRINX. 5 Stole with cool ravishment, like summer rain On the parched woodland, or the far-heard roar Of coming waves along a thirsty shore. Then softer, sweeter, in his tingling ears There was a honeyed whispering ; and great tears Burst forth benignant. Solemnly and slow He bowed his shaggy front, and his fierce woe Was lifted from him, as the music wound In widening gyres of interwoven sound Up through the thrilling darkness, till it died Among the stars ; and, wave on wave, the tide Of silence closed once more around him, fraught With gentlest soothing, and some new, sweet thought That on his haggard face, like sunshine, wrought A radiant transformation. Silently He raised his hands to heaven, and with a sigh Slow-bending down, took a keen-edged stone And tenderly the reed-stems, one by one, Severed in sequent lengths, and side by side Together placed, and with smooth rushes tied. SYRINX. Then, breathless, hearkening for the muffled sound Of the brown wood-bee, working underground, Deftly a honey- weighted comb he found, — Close by a willow root, where the white bosses Of mushrooms glimmered, many-tinted mosses Swelled softly, sdver-fretted lichens clung, And whirring night-moths in dim crannies hung Screened by dark ivy, — and the wax did knead In his hot palnis, and stopt with cunning speed Flute after flute. And so his task of love At last was end''' I ! Meanwhile, far above, Lycaios' topmost crags had caught the light, That, like a fountain from the sacred height Of clear Cyllene welling silently, Told the dim valleys that the dawn was nigh. From far Stymphaloa came the dreary cry Of wakening marsh-fowl, mingled with the fall < If torrent waters, faint and musical, In woody hollows. But by him unheard SYRINX. ' Or fall of cataract, or wail of bird ; By him the silver presage of the morn Unseen ; far-wandering in a dream forlorn Of lost delights, of joys that might have been, Of wild regrets ! For, evermore, between His vision and the dead reeds lying there Within his listless hands, there came the hair — The odorous, golden hair — the warm, soft hair He grasped so vainly in that cruel chase ; And, evermore, that pale and piteous face Grew up before him, with its bright, young eyes, Through drowning tears of terror and surprise, Turned back imploring ; and its lips agape With that long shriek of anguish, when escape Grew hopeless. " 'Twas but y ester eve ! The wood Rang to her ringing laughter, as she stood Half in the dancing sunshine, half in shade, Her locks down-showering from their huntress' braid ; While round her feet the sylvan creatures played, s SYRINX. Lovely and fearless. Lovely and fearless she As Dian's self ! And now ! ah, woe is me ! Arcadia knows her not. The mountain-side Is bare of beauty ; valley and forest wide Vacant of joy for ever ! And I — even I Who loved her — have destroyed her ! I — even I, Who would have cast my old divinity Beneath her feet, to save one tiniest curl On her white neck, one little, dewy pearl Of her sweet mouth, from wrong ! " Once more he bowed His head above the reeds, and wept aloud. N i it now for baffled passion was his plain ; But wild remorse, contrition wild and vain For her so sad undoing. — Though a trace ( )f the old madness on his pallid face Yet lingered, and within his desolate breast Yet heaved the purple tide in sick unrest. Then — even as one with secret guilt beguiled, May touch the pure lips of a sinless child SYRINX. Who loves him, all unweeting of his shame — Softly he breathed the vanished Oread's name Along the flutes. As in the caves of sleep Lost voices call us fondly, till we weep In that strange ecstasy where joy and woe, Merged in one aimless ache, together flow Down to the sea of rest, the Oread's low, Mellifluous wail of yearning tenderness Made liquid answer to his lips' caress, As from the shore of Lethe, or the bound Of far Elysium. At the wondrous sound, So faint with love, so tremulous with regret, Once more his cheeks with quiet tears were wet, And his fierce heart was chastened ; for he knew Her soul was in the reeds, and gently drew The poison from his wound, until the pain, By sympathy transformed, through every vein Pulsed with a tender sadness that now seemed Sweeter than all the rapture he had dreamed. 10 SYRINX. A Low wind rippling up the river came. He raised his head. The sky was all a-flame With rosy fire : young Eos was ahroad Upon the mountains ! Cliff and corrie glowed, Far westward, with the palpitating blaze Of topaz isled in tenderest chrysoprase. And down the mighty gorges to the east — Wine-dark or flusht with lucent amethyst — Sloped the broad shafts of Phoibos. While the mist, As from a thousand altars, upward curled From tarn and cataract, and ghost-like, whirled And flitted round the pines, and died aAvay In the sweet radiance of the new-born day. Still all the narrow vales lay dewy-dark ; And not a bird was stirring, save one lark That high o'erhead, the blinding light up-winging, Woke the clear echoes with enchanted singing: A joyous descant, beautiful and strange, For ever changing — sweeter every change ! SYRINX. 11 He rose. The joy and glory of the hour Were on his spirit. And the wondrous power, Unfelt till now, of Utterance — born of love And sorrow ! — in his heart began to move. Breathing into the reeds impassioned breath, The conscious reeds made answer, and beneath, His glowing lips and fingers glowed. That day There was a new song in Arcadia ! A new song and a marvel ! From the spurs Of old Lycaios, muffled in dark firs, It seemed to moan. Now from the sunward height It warbled, tremulous with its own delight. Now from some mossy dingle, with the sound Of rushing water blent, it floated round In liquid wailing. Now, far up the hill, About the breezy crags, like laughter shrill It rang, reverberant. AVide- wondering eyes Stared from lone places with a bright surprise, 12 SYRINX. .\iiil wept for very joy — if joy it were That thrilled the heart so strangely — as the air Throbbed with the music. "Wonder sweet and new Pell on all woodland creatures, till they grew • Sentle as by enchantment. In the blue The lark hung rapt in silence. Every noise < >f wind or water, every living voice, Was softened, and an awful whisper ran Throughout the listening valleys : It is Pax ! 13 LOST LIFE. i. Time's unreturning river Flows moaning down for ever, Through life and death towards that shadowy sea, Within whose tideless deeps The kraken-mystery sleeps : The tranced ocean of Eternity ! I hear the fresh wind rippling in the leaves, The swallows twitter ronnd the barley-sheaves, The homeward reapers in the setting sun Sing merrily, their fragrant labour done ; The bee, blue summer's joyous troubadour, Carols for kisses to each damsel-flower ; Thy sweet voice fills this consecrated bower 14 LOST LIFE. With love's own music. But through all, through all, I hear the time-stream's desolating fall, The eternal ocean's melancholy roar : " The past returneth never, never more ! " ii. .My youth was spent in folly ; With vestal Melancholy I walked abroad throughout this beauteous earth Culling from all things fair The poison of despair, To murder in my breast the angel mirth ; Scorning, for cold abstractions of the mind, The gentle sympathies of human kind ; Gazing on vague Ideals, till the eye Grew Mind to Nature ; ever wearily Seeking afar the beauty round me strewn : Till, in a world of joy, I stood alone, In impious isolation. And though now — LOST LIFE. 15 Thanks to thy ministry ! — iny heart can glow With late-found gladness, ghosts of buried woe Will rise to scare me, even in hours like this, And turn to gall the sweetness of thy kiss. 10 THE UNKNOWN POETEAIT. No. I. Shadow with the golden hair, Phantom with the eyes of blue, What wild thing of earth or air, What bright creature pure and fair, Shall my song compare with you ] Not the stately swan that gleams At .sunrise down the vale of streams ; Not the timid mountain hind, Light of foot as summer wind ; Not the skylark, as she springs From her nest on dewy wings, And up the hlue lift soaring sings ; THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. 17 Not the butterfly that dances All day long from flower to flower ; Not the ephemeris that glances, Fitful as a poet's fancies, O'er the tarn beside my bower, Would I dare to match with you, Phantom with the eyes of blue ! Nor the sweet young crescent moon In the gloaming-heaven of June ; Nor her shadow on the sea, When the wind's low minstrelsy Stirs him in his tranced sleep ; Nor the rainbow-bells that leap Where the fairy-fountain falleth, Softly chiming, ever falleth In the hollow of the granite, — Mab's unbraided locks would span it ! Nor a gem of odorous dew In the bosom of a rose, B L8 THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. Willi the sunshine streaming through ; Nor that saintliest flower that hlows, The virgin lily, as she bendeth O'er some lake ere night descendeth ; Nor the planet of the even, — Of all fairest things in heaven Or earth most spirit-like and fair — With your beauty may compare, Shadow with the golden hair ! All in vain my fancy strings Names of earth's divinest things, Fondly striving to express Something of your loveliness ; But that loveliness as far Theirs transcends as doth the star The dewdrop, or yon stainless round Of sapphire sky the smirched ground. For all things most pure and sweet That nature owneth, blended meet THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. I!) [n this angel form and face, Stealing uniniagined grace And glory from the unsullied Soul, That dwells within and lights the whole. 20 THE UNKNOWN POETEAIT. Xo. II. JJrow like summer cloud for -whiteness, Eye of heaven's serenest blue, Cheek of day-dawn's blushful brightness, Lip of sunset's rosiest hue, Glossy ringlets waving free Eound a neck of ivory ; O'er the maiden breast descending, With its holy whiteness blending, Scarce its loveliness concealing, S) lading half and half revealing ! Surely ye are but a dream, So strangely beautiful ye seem ! Or can it be ye shadow forth A creature who hath walked this eartb, THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. 21 Sent down from heaven a little while To show how angels look and smile ! And, even as one on household stairs Who meets an angel unawares, Might hold his breath ; in silent awe I stood when first this Shape I saw Look down with those blue, wondering even, Whose brightness seemed to realise My childhood's holiest reveries Of love and innocence divine ! I know thee not ; but well my heart Interprets, darling, what thou art : Light of some old ancestral hall, Queen-gem of some proud coronal ! For, certes, such a perfect grace, Such lustrous loveliness of face, Such artless majesty as thine Proclaims thee of no sordid line ! — 22 THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. And, while my waking dreams I weave Of all thy sweetness, will believe That somewhere ere its pulse is cold Thy living form I may behold ; May smooth those locks of rippling gold, See those down-drooping eyes divine Bend their calm suninier-light on mine, Hear those moist lips, — that fain would tremble Into smiles, and but dissemble Their quaint air of seriousness, — With music's tenderest tones caress My soul, or lady-laughter, sweet As music ! watch those silken feet Flit in the dance, as through the leaves The white moths flit on summer eves, Silent and swift — or, lovelier still, On some free, windy Norland hill, Tread the brown heath in virgin pride ! Or, haply, by some brooklet side THE UNKNOWN PORTRAIT. 23 Glance bare amongst the lilied green, Flushing the waves with rosy sheen ! Ah ! futile dream ! yet not in vain Thou flatterest this weary brain ; For gentle thoughts must come, I trow, "Where such sweet visitants as thou Have lingered ! And, my gentle child. I bless thy beauty undefiled, That in an hour of sorrow stole Like sunshine on my darkened soul ; And pray that, wheresoe'er thou art, Young joy may nestle near thy heart, And sister angels guard thee still From every touch of earthly ill, Folding their stainless pinions round Thy path, to keep it holy ground ; While this, thy Shadow, unto me Shall guardian angel ever be ! 24 CULLODEK At last I stand upon thy fatal sod, I hunimossie Moor ! — and if my eyes are wet, 'Tis not that here the star of Stuart set To rise no more. The righteous hand of God Was on the race, whom nor prosperity, Xor sorrow's holier discipline, could school To this first axiom of true royalty : Who knows to serve, alone deserves to rule. The world could not stand still, that they might play The fool with empire ; so they passed. My tears Are not for them, but for the outnumbered Brave Who bled beneath the hirelings' steel that day, And now sleep, rank on rank, in this wide grave, Swathed in the verdure of a hundred years. 25 CAWNPORE. When dawned the promised day-spring from on high, A voice was heard in Eamah : the wild cry Of Rachel weeping for her children slain. Once more the earth hath drunk the precious rain Of Innocent blood ! — once more the agony Of desolated hearts assailed the sky ! Avenge their cause, Lord ! Yet, not the vain And barren vengeance of a Christless race We imprecate : When from before the face Of outraged heaven and shamed humanity The lightning-sword of Justice shall have swept The Un-nameable — grant that the tears now wept, The martyr-blood now shed into Thy hand, May prove the Chrism of a redeemed land. Dec. 6, 1857. 26 ROSLIN" CHAPEL. In the husht summer noon I stood alone In Eoslin's sylvan fane. ]So sound was heard, Save the far, fitful fluting of one bird, And the low river- voices murmuring on Amid the leaves their faint antiphonies. And here, I said — as fancy backward ranged Through all the dim, tumultuous centuries — For ever through the changing years unchanged, With silence for its guardian angel, stands This wondrous temple, reared by mortal hands, But deckt by hands immortal, as a shrine Sacred to beauty and eternal thought, Where every creed may worship. Touch it not, man, with impious hands ! The house is God's- not thine ! May 5, 1801. 27 "THROUGH THE WATERS." i. Lower and lower sinks the weary moon Towards the vapoury har. Higher and higher soars the morning star Through the nusht heaven of June. The east grows pale — it will he morning soon ! Up through the gusty sound, Rich with his glimmering foam - wreath crowned, The ocean waves come ramping, Lamping and rolling with haughty roar, Line after line, in the wan moonshine, Like an army of heroes proudly tramping To death on a hostile shore. And ever the salt winds soh and sigh, And the sheeted spindrift whistles hy, ■JS " THROUGH THE WATERS. Like the voice and the tears of agony. And cold as the breath Of slander or death The balmy midnight air has grown, As I drive fast and free, With the send of the sea, With the long, weary wash of the salt, singing sea- The moon in my white sail, the foam-fire a-lee, In the night of my sorrow — alone. ii. Whithersoe'er I fly : 'Mid the loud city's roar, Beside the wild sea-shore, Like mine own shadow still I feel her nigh. Between me and God's light In the blue noon she stands ; I feel the hot clasp of her clinging hands In the dead hours of night. "THROUGH THE WATERS." 29 The stars of twilight burn With the weird brightness of her eyes ; To the sad cadence of her sighs Across the moors the midnight breezes mourn ; The innocent flowers of spring That lift their dewy faces in the grass ; Sun-gleams that o'er the summer woodlands pass ; Brown autumn's fields in silence ripening ; The low warm sighs that stir The flowery queaches ere the night comes down ; The sylvan odours from the woodland blown, Cedar and beech and fir ; The sea-vaults where, 'neath many a quaint festoon Of immemorial moss, the Atlantic waves Chant their wild dirges, as the storm-wind raves Beneath the winter moon : 30 "through the waters." Whate'er of beautiful Earth holds, or wild, or sweet — The very dust beneath my restless feet ! — Seems of her being full ; As though the un uttered Thought Of her that burns within my tortured soul Had fired insensate matter, and the wdiole With passionate life were fraught ; Till common things, grown strange And startling, ever seem — As in a madman's dream — Quickening with portent of gorgonian change. nt. O, earth, that art so fair ! With all thy leafy nooks, Valleys and mountain brooks, Hast thou no spot to shield me from despair ] << THROUGH THE WATERS." 31 0, sea ! majestic sea ! Hast thou no quiet cave, "Where grief might find a grave Unhaunted by the vampire Memory 1 0, heaven, divine and calm ! Hast thou no gentle rain To cool this feverous brain 1 To soothe this aching heart, no holy balm ? 0, spirit that dost glow Within me ! Sacred spark Of the Eternal Pharos ! through the dark, Tempestuous night of error and of woe, Hast thou no ray to guide This shipwrecked life — with all its lofty aims, Ennobling duties, humanising claims, Its passion and its pride 1 32 " THROUGH THE WATERS." There is no answer — but the gathering roar Of hungry night- winds from their viewless caves, And the remorseless thunder of the waves, Bursting in darkness on an unknown shore ! IV. As one who, tottering, on a mountain peak At midnight stands, and, gazing far below, Sees beckoning shapes of horror come and go, Hears luring voices from the abysses shriek ; So stand I, dizzy, on the utmost verge < )f reason, with bewildered brain, And eyes blind with the fiery rain < )f anguish ; while a thousand phantoms urge The headlong plunge into the yawning deep Of madness. And were madness death, And deatli oblivion, I would hold my breath And take the leap ! " THROUGH THE WATERS." 33 V. A purple splendour swathes the mountain steeps ; Slowly night's cloudy cerements are withdrawn ; And, as a spirit from the charnel leaps, Leaps up the east the glory of the dawn ! Eastward the strong wind hloweth, Eastward the great sea fioweth, Eastward the wan haze traileth, Eastward the sea-hird saileth, Eastward the dark earth turneth, Eastward my lone heart yearneth, And eastward, eastward strain my yearning eyes To where, beyond the veil of mist, Stretched like a cloud of faintest amethyst, Headland and valley, crag and shadowy cove, Athwart the track of morn the island lies : The island that I love ! And there, ah ! there — Peace, burning heart within thy crimson deeps ; c 34 " THROUGH THE WATERS." Thy reign at last is o'er ! — Amid the halo of its golden hair The sweet face sleeps ; The pale, sweet face, that I shall see no more VI. But enough of idle gazing In the dead face of The Past ! It is Dead. Come, sexton Chronos, Let thy charnel-mould he cast Over what was erst so lovely, Now a cold and ghastly clod. Raj uiescatl Mequiesca t ! Fill the grave and clap the sod. For I hear Fate's pinions rushing Onward through the waning night, And the trumpets of the future Sounding from the sunward height, " THROUGH THE WATERS." 35 And a sovereign voice that calletli Through, the hreezy morning air : Life is all too brief and precious To he wasted in despair ! Man hath other work than weeping ! 'Tis with sweat, and not with tears, He fulfils his being's purpose, Eeaps the harvest of his years, Builds from passion's burning chaos ,- "With Heaven's order still at strife, Even from error, sin, and shame, TheJcosmos of Heroic Life, j *— — : rr Up, then , up ; be strong and earnest, Using life's diminished span To redeem thy youth's fair promise — Bravely, calmly, — even as one 36 " THROUGH THE WATERS. Who hath known whate'er of joy Or sadness human heart may know, And cometli, purified for conflict, From the baptism of woe. BOY-LOVE. There is a rose-embowered islet In the ocean of my dreams, Like some crimson cloud of twilight That through ether swims ; So bright, so still ! and dear to me, Is this halcyon isle of Memory. Yet deem not that I love it so For groves of palni or myrtle bowers, Or limpid streams that ever flow In music through a land of flowers. No ! what were scene, however fair, If human love were wanting there ! 38 BOY-LOVE. ] Jut there the little brown-eyed maid I dare not meet by day, Flits like a bird from shade to shade, And bird-like sings alway, To guide me to the secret nest That nightly screens our linked rest. S< », ever when the day goes down Into the quiet deep, By hope's delicious breath I'm blown, In the silent bark of sleep, Away, away to this phantom isle, To bask in the light of her gentle smile. 39 FAIEY MADRIGAL. i. Featly, fairies, foot the dance, O'er moss and flower ! Through the gloom the fire-flies glance, Like a golden shower ; And in their starry light, While the moon yet sleeps behind the hill, Weave we our reel to-night To the chiming of the rill ; Or the song the skylark weaves 'Mongst the leaves, As he hymns the dawning gleams In his dreams. 40 FAIRY MADRIGAL. II. "What, ho ! The wisp-fire ! Through the dark Follow him fleet, Over the marsh that takes no mark Of our elfin feet. Yo-ho ! now hang him out On the foxglove spire for a lamp to ; \Vliile round and round about We quaff so merrily, From buttercup and harebell blue, Our nectar-dew, Nor lack from lips divine Sweeter wine ! in. Twist we, twist we, twirl and twine Along the green ! But see ' those rosy streaks that shine The boles between ! Mount we the westering wind ! FAIRY MADRIGAL. 41 Come, follow the track of the twilight grey ! We shall leave the morning far behind — To Avalun away ! There may our charmed sleep Be as deep As thine, blue waning moon, In the noon ! 42 FIORDESPINA. 'Twas on a bright and breezy autumn morn, When hill and vale reeled purple-flusht with wine, By immemorial Tiber thou wert born, A creature all divine ! Nurst on the breast of Poesy : the child Of ever-young Romance — warm, beautiful, and wild. ii. No earthly sire was thine, mysterious maiden ! Thy dark-eyed mother thridding by the moon Some antique wood with wonder-dreams o'erladen, Lapt in a golden swoon, Like vestal Rhea in the sacred grove, Illcst soup- iiniii'irtal lover with a mortal's love. FIORDESPINA. 43 III. And — when (the sweet moons past) the mellow year, Beloved of Pan, her honeyed fruits brought forth — Dying, amid the sunlight warm and clear, Left thee alone on earth : Alone on earth, a weird, supernal thing, Full of still, tranced joy and dreamy sorrowing : IV. Alone on earth, in virgin majesty Throned where the torch of Eros fears to burn ; Like a lone sunbeam o'er a darksome sea, Where'er thy pure eyes turn, Shedding a halo of divinest light, Wherein thou movest veiled in rapture of delight ; v. An all-embracing aureole of high thought : Shadows from out the past, and wandering gleams Of the evolving future, dimly caught In sleep from saintly dreams : 44 FIOUDESPINA. Far-beckoning sympathies with some bright sphere, For which thy spirit yearns with many an mashed tear. VI. A sphere where Love and Innocence are one, Where Truth and star-eyed Reason walk assoyled From ban ; where Thought undazzled eyes the sun ; Where Passion, undefiled I5y earth, becomes Religion ; where to Thee I might become what here, alas ! I cannot be. VII. She hears me not ! but evermore doth speak Witb low, soft, eager voice ; her wide, black eyes Gleam to the stars ; her poor unconscious cheek Upon my bosom lies, Fevered and flusht amid the dewy air That laves along my lips the dark tide of her hair. FIORDESTINA. 45 VIII. What hear'st thou in the rushing of the river,' That thus with tranced car thou listenest? What seest thou in those filmy liars that quiver Low in the shadowing west ? The Beautiful of old yet live ! And thou Dost hold mysterious converse with them even now ! IX. They float around thee from the sylvan nooks, From out the wide domes of the twilight air ; All gentle demons with sweet, wondering looks And forms for ever fair : Phantasms who linger yet by many a shore, Though man's dull eyes behold their beauty now no more. x. They float around thee, to thy soul serene, Primeval Truth, on earth forgotten long, Chanting in charmed numbers ; and between 46 FIORDESPINA. The waves of solemn song Trip the rare ether to the silvery tone Of dithyrambic timbrels, heard by thee alone ! XI. They hire thee hence ! And shall we trace no more The leafy caverns of the summer wood ! No more together by the midnight shore Hear voices of the flood Muttering to heaven the ancient mysteries Hid in the unresting bosom of the doomfid seas ! XII. No more as now, together, in the soft, Still, odorous darkness of the summer even, Watch ]ialc Silcnc wundur forth aloft Through the wide wastes of heaven, Seeking and finding not — like thee ! like me ! Like; all who breathe the breath of sad mortality ! FIORDESPINA. 47 XIII. They lure thee hence ! Thou fadest from my view ! Even while I clasp thee, my beloved one, Thou fadest from me ! — as a tear of dew, Kissed by the wakening sun From off the argent eyelids of the morn, Seeks the blue- vaulted void — ah ! never to return ! XIV. Yes, thou must seek thy native land — to die ! And I once more tread life's rough track — alone ! Nay ! to my spirit thou wilt still be nigh, Though from this bosom flown ; Still shine as heretofore, my pilot star, Sphered in the heaven of thought where the immortal are. xv. The wandering odours of the vernal wood, The mournful music of the winter sea, The city's roar, the hush of solitude, 48 I IOBDESPINA. Shall speak to me of thee ! I >eath cannot part us. In the realm of dreams We yet shall meet and love, whate'er the wise world deems ! XVI. Then let me kiss the tremor from thy brow, And dry the tears from those wan eyelids starting. Nay, weep not ! — why should earthly weakness throw Its shadow on this parting ! — Kiss me ! Oh, closer, closer ! — 'tis the last. God keep thee ! Morning breaks : our dream of life is past. 49 IDYL To D. O. H. We tore along with snort and yell, Through barren wastes of mounded sand ; Till with a sudden sweep we came Upon the sunlit ocean strand. Dark-blue beneath the dark-blue sky The windless main stretched far away, And here and there the white-sailed ships, Entranced, with long white shadows lay. .Still as a dream ! But, as the breast Of some sweet sleeper heaves and falls, One long, bright surge along the beach Upheaved and fell at intervals. D 50 IDYL. Such, said I, was the hour, the scene, When Zephyr to the Paphian shore, With Xereid song and winded shell The maiden Aphrodite bore; While all the warm Idalian air Around her flusht with rosy flame, And marble crag and myrtle grove Burst into music as she came ! "When, lo ! as if the whispered words Had realised my shadowy thought, My soul from Nature's bounteous breast Drank of the loveliness it sought : For there, upon the glimmering marge, Between the sea and sea-worn rocks, Stood, mother-naked, in the sun, A little girl with golden locks. I D Y L. 5 I Quickly, as if 'twixt shame and fear, Half round she turned with blushful grace, And with a piteous smile threw hack The tresses from her glowing face. Then, with a tremulous shriek, she tossed Her rosy, rounded arms in air, While, like a mamad's, hackward streamed The lustrous tangle of her hair. With shout on shout, with hound on bound, Aloft she clapt her dimpled hands, And, seaward, with reverted glance, Fled, gleaming, down the gleaming sands. Her white foot touched the silvery foam — One wild, exultant leap she gave, Like the winged fish of Indian seas, And plunged into the coming wave. 52 IDYL. I saw her glittering form emerge — I heard her breathless laughter ring, One moment ! Then once more away Rushed the steam-fiend on murky wing. < >nce more away ! with snort and yell We fled the lone, enchanted spot — I Jut richer — purer, for that draught Of beauty, ne'er to be forgot ! — 80, let us thank kind Heaven, my friend, "Who, if to us it hath refused The golden charm, by knave and fool Possessed so oft — so oft abused — Yet, wielded by the wise and good, That works such blessings in the land — Hath given the clear, perceptive eye, The thoughtful brain to understand — IDYL. 53 Despite the soul-distracting moil And clangour of this iron age — The runes by God's own finger writ On Nature's ever-open page : The unshrinking reason, that dare track Faith's river to its fountain-springs, And read the lofty meanings hid In what the world calls Common things : The heart to feel the beauty shed O'er all, through all, from Heaven above, And, like that Heaven, to comprehend Creation in one clasp of love. 54 SIR LAUXCELOT. " Had not Sir Launeelot been in his secret thoughts and in his mind set inwardly to the Queen, as he was in seeming outward unto I. there had no Knight passed him in the quest of the Sam-- greall." — La Mori d'Artkwr. Past sleeping thorp and guarded tower, By star-gleams and in moonlight pale, By mount and mere, through shine and shower, Flasht the wan lightning of his mail. But loose the jewelled bridle hung, And, backward, listless drooped the spear — < rod's holy name was on his tongue, Thine in his heart — Queen Gueniverc. I ><•(']> in a wood at dead of night He felt the white wings winnowing by, SIR LAUNCELOT. 55 He saw the flood of mystic light, He heard the chanting clear and high. " 0, heal me, blood of Christ ! " he said — A low voice murmnred in his ear, And all the saintly vision fled — The voice was thine — Queen Guenivere. lira vest of all the brave art thou — ( >f guileless heart — of stainless name ; But, traitor to thy sacred vow, Thou rid'st to rain and to shame. No joy on earth for evermore ! No rest for thee but on thy bier ! — Ah ! blessed Lord our sins who bore, Save him — and sinful Guenivere ! 56 PAN AND SYKINX. Long, long ago, as poets sing, When earth was in her jocund spring, And passion scarce was crime construed, Old Pan a river-maid pursued A down green Ladon's valley. Like some flaked cloud that flies Aloft through breezy April skies, Or sun-gleam o'er the Ionian sea, With fluttering heart and trembling knee, Down Ladon's leafy valley, Fast she fled ! while on her track, Ever nearer, like a rack PAN AND SYRINX. 57 Of lowering thunder-cloud, he strains, Or Ladon mad with mountain rains, Adown his echoing valley. Now athwart the gliding river Their twin shadows flit and quiver — Now the pine wood's odorous night Shrouds awhile their headlong flight Down green Ladon' s valley. Now the sunlit meadow-flowers Round their flying feet in showers Of gold and azure fall — and then, In the leaves they're lost again, Adown fair Ladon's valley. Ah ! hadst thou been less grisly old, She, perdy, had proved less cold ! But despite thy grisly oldness, PAN AND SYRINX. And despite her fro ward coldness, Deep in Ladon's valley Thou hadst won thy wish ere long — And who will dare avow 'twas wrong I — Maiden lips have fooled, I trow, Sicrner moralists than thou, In many a dewy valley ! Ha ! he grasps her by the fair Tresses of her streaming hair ! In vain she calls ! — nor gods on high Nor men below will hear her cry, In Ladon's lonely valley ! Yes, huntress of the silver bow ! Thou heard'st the virgin's shriek of woe ! And vain was all his hungry speed — I !<• clasped a maiden and kissed — a reed, In L;n Ion's silent valley ! 59 SONNET. And is it thus our feverous race we run Through visible life, — that dream within a dream, To death, — that What 1 — like hubbies on a stream, Bright or obscure, as Fortune's venal sun Flatters or flouts, with arbitrary gleam. Like these, we are not, but do only seem : Mere hollow semblants ! Catching, as a mirror, Our hues from circumstance : — or truth, or error — ( )r gloom, or gaiety. And though, awhile, We may deceive, and win her specious smile, With others, as ourselves, deceitful, vain ; What boots it ] Will that medicate the pain Of conscious insignificance 1 and when Life's paltry bubble bursts, — ceases to seem — what then 1 60 IN THE FOEEST. FRAGMENT. Deep in the cedarn forest stands her hower, Where emerald glooms and golden lights for ever Weave a gay morrice-dance o'er grass and flower — As o'er the ripples of a wavy river The arrowy sun-stars whirl and shoot and shiver ; Where the young dryad, Odour, panting flees, Through glade and grove the long midsummer day, Her music-pinioned paramour, the Breeze, Till, faint with lovesome play, They sink asleep, together lapt and folden, Amid the sleeping lilies of a brook, Or couched on mosses, purple, green, and golden, In soome unfooted nook ; IN THE FOREST. 61 Where sits the nightingale on hawthorn spray, Witching the dark with lovelorn roundelay, That echoes far the bosky vistas through, With sweet reverberations ever new ; Where floats the white moth, from her tremulous wings Thrilling pale radiance, and the small gnat sings A drowsy requiem, ere he sinks to die Under the harebell's drooping canopy ; Where, in his blazoned mail, the beetle glides, Thrums the gaunt grasshopper his brazen sides, Through the lush grass the elfin glow-worm gleams, And aye unseen the shrewmouse flits and screams; While, like some bandit o'er his garnered heap, Hidden in mossy cavern, warm and deep, The weary wood-bee hums himself asleep, And overhead, throughout the silent night, The mouldering beech-root looms with weird phosphoric light. 62 SONNET. Tis a wild night ! The mountain path is rude ; The pale stars reel and dance among the clouds That hurry o'er the sky in murky crowds, Like giant Nornir. From the wind-swept wood ( )\vl shrieks to querulous owl. With eiry din Roars through the hollow dark the swollen lyn. The moon steals up above the tossing pines : Wan as a dying charnel-lanip it shines, Making the night more drear. But Avhat to me I >r storm or darkness ! Onward joyously I toil — as toils a lone hark tempest- driven For shore, or weary soul for rest in heaven : ( >n through the gloom with fond eye fixed on thee, My happy haven ! my blest eternity ! 63 CIRCE. Like some poor wretch in mortal fever, Fitfully with vague endeavour, Maniac shout and idiot weeping, Ossas on dim Pelions heaping, To storm — alas ! he knows not what Olympus of fantastic thought ; So, with blind rage and frantic wailing, Writhes in travail unavailing This Briarean world of ours, This maelstrom of contending powers, This seething mass of human will, Of love, of hate, of good, of ill, Of courage calm and headlong terror, Humble truth and haughty error, 64 CIRCE. Doubt and faith, and pride and shame, Kisses, curses, praise, and blame, Pale disease and rosy health, Pinched poverty and bloated wealth, Youth and dotage — one and all, Round this corpse-incrusted ball Pursuing some imagined Good, In a sweat of tears and blood : Pleasure — Fortune — Freedom — Fame — What is either but a name ! Let them battle, let them rave, From the go-cart to the grave ! What to Us is all the stir, Rosy-lipped philosopher ! Thy keen-edged laughter — like the sword Of Macedon's impetuous lord — Hath cleft in twain the stubborn cord Heart-knotted round my high resolves, And ;ill youth's daring dream dissolves ! Xo more I yearn amid the throng CIRCE. 65 To work my will with sword or song : To shield the helpless — beard the strong, And, armed with right, to vanquish wrong. Still may weak laws degrade the poor, And patriots cozen them, secure From retribution. Still remain The poor deserving of their chain — Oh ! Slavery ! this thy foulest stain ! — Still may their own hands fabricate Fresh fetters to perpetuate Their degradation. Let them toil, Despairing helots, on the soil Which is their birthright. Never more May comfort guard the poor man's door, "When frost bites keen and chill winds roar — Nor joy sit smiling by his hearth — What right hath poverty to mirth ( Let vice and infidelity Still rot men's souls from sea to sea, While Mother Church with tranquil face E fifi CIRCE. Sits throned aloof in pride of place, Intoning low with courtly ease Her stately platitudes ; nor sees, Nor hears where, struggling in the night Of ignorance, they cry for light, For food, for love, — but cry in vain : Her spotless lawn she must not stain By contact with the godless rout Who daie to hunger — and to doubt ! Let selfishness, that monster-birth Of sin and fear, still rule the earth, As heretofore, with iron rod — Man's only universal god ! Some stronger arm must strike the blow That lays sin's loathly hydra low ; Must take the sting from poverty, Ami, in the truth, make mankind free ! Mine he a : task : afar From din of life's heart-sickening jar, Lost in the magic maze of love CIRCE. 67 Beneath thy whispering woods to rove, And dedicate my days to thee — Henceforth my sole divinity ! No more ambition's " foolish fire," That drags the great world through the mire — Smirching so many a robe of pride, Shall lure me, Circe, from thy side ; Her richest meed were lost on one Who lives but for thy smile alone ! Still less shall vulgar lust of pelf Rob me of thee — and of myself, Pollute my spirit, freeze the springs Of joy, and clip young fancy's wings, — I'll leave it to earth's creeping things ! Those human scarabs who would rake Gehenna's foulness for its sake ; Then, having found some golden grains, Wax straightway orgillous — like drains In thaw — strut forth with horn erect, And, blushless, claim the world's respect ; « ; - CIRCE. As though, God help them ! they had done >Some noble thing beneath the sun, And not — the sort of work designed For creatures of the scarab kind ! Dearer this dimpled hand to fold Thus, close in mine, than all the gold O'er Avliich Pactolus ever rolled ! Sweeter to hear Thee breathe my name Thus low, than all the blatant fame, For which mankind have ever given Their peace on earth, their hope of heaven ! Xor would I for her proudest wreath Forego those locks, that in thy breath Wave odorous as they downward how In sunshowers from thy shadowy brow, And weave a halo round my head More glorious far than fame could shed ! I have no life apart from thine ; No hope beyond Thee, witch divine ! CIRCE. 69 The future now hath nought to give For which I would not scorn to live, Beyond thy love ! Thus lost in Thee, Even life itself hath ceased to he Aught but a solitary sense < >f passion's crowned omnipotence ! 70 AGNELLINA. Come hither, little brown-eyed maid, And lean upon my breast, And lay thy soft young cheek to mine, That my spirit may have rest. For I am sick of woman's love, So fickle, fro ward, wild, And with strange yearning turn to thine, Thou blameless little child ! < >, were it sooth the legend tells ( )f that mysterious tree, Which whoso tasteth straight returns To blissful infancy, AGXELLIXA. 71 With pilgrim staff and sandal shoon I'd search the wide world round, Nor rest till, wheresoe'er it grew, The magic fruit were found. Ah ! hopeless dream ! Yet while I feel Thy joyous hosom beat Against my weary heart, and drink Thy kisses calm and sweet, The fiery worm of memory sleeps, My soul forgets her pain, And in the smile of heaven I Avalk With thee — a child again. 72 E E E M E. Roaming about the woods at eventide, Singing as sang the birds i' the leafy bowers. Deep in a grove a fiowerlike babe I 'spied Sleeping serenely on a couch of flowers. Breathless, by turns each dewy- folded lid I kissed — his mouth, his cheeks, his forehead fair ; While round him, all a-blush, my anus 1 slid, And shook a shadow o'er him with my hair. And then, as one, who in a lonely place Hath found a priceless gem he dreads to lose, I loth turn on every side his fearful face, And starting fleiith, although none pursues ; EREME. 73 80 in my robe I wrapped my new-found treasure, With many a stealthy glance and quick caress ; And bore him, trembling with the sweet, strange pleasure, Into my chamber's warm and husht recess. What joy it was, bending above him there, To watch his honeyed breathing ebb and flow, To touch the rounding of his shoulders fair, To smooth his pinions' rosy-tinctured snow ! And when lie turned him in his sleep and smiled, What blissful madness flooded all my brain ! With fancies vague and beautiful and wild Flattering my heart and flushing every vein ; Till, with my hot cheek pillowed on his breast, Ambrosial darkness of the summer night Lapped my faint spirit in enchanted rest, Deeper than slumber, sweeter than delight. 74 EREME. Ai ! ai ! that in that transport I had died ! I h died ere yet that transport I had known ! For when the morning dawned my arms were void, My love-warmed nest a-cold, my sweet bird flown ! And not a sign save only this remained, To tell where in my bosom he had slept ! — Whereat the poor soul from her azure- veined And milky side the peplos drew, and wept : For lo ! where swells the bosom's balmy round, Full-orbed above the clasping gold — Ah me ! A barb&d shaft had ript a teenful wound, A bitter wound, that bled full cruelly. And so, she said, I sit and nurse my pain, Here, a lone, wounded dove, in forest shade, Waiting, if haply he will come again : For love alone can heal the wound that love hath made 75 MOONLIGHT: A FRAGMENT. Day sinks at last behind the purple hills, And silence wraps the land. Here, gentle friends, Let's nestle in the fresh-pded aftermath, And watch the quiet coming of the moon. Already from the zenith's dim abyss Her starry harbingers peer forth — then vail Their cressets. Hesperus alone, wide-eyed, Through fairy isles of amethyst and gold, Swims up the ebbing radiance of the west With blazing torch to meet her. And lo ! she comes, Enchantress-queen of shadows, of pale dreams, Of passionate yearnings — madness and despair ; 76 MOONLIGHT. Yet, see ! how tranquilly she smiles, adown The roseate summer dark ; her silvery veil Uplifting, — like the heaven-descended one Who stood revealed in virgin majesty To care-worn Dante by the mystic bourn, What time tbe quires angelic chanted, " Come, My Bride, from Lebanon," and angelic hands Rained lilies gathered at the feet of God ! How beautiful, how beautiful thou art ! ( ) pilgrim orb ! — with fond imploring face Turned ever as thou journeyest, Clytie-like, Towards the golden shrine thou ne'er canst win Bright with the light of everlasting love, Wan with the shadow of eternal woe ! 77 DIETY WEATHER. Moanbth ever the weary wind, Pelteth ever the rain ; The grey sky lowereth, The sear wood roareth, The red river poureth Down to the main. < >'er cornfield and fallow, O'er headland and shallow, The white mist is trailing, The sea-hirds are sailing, And shrieking and wailing In pain. DIRTY WEATHER. With a bruise on her back, And slime in her track, Slowly and wearily over the road The weak worm is crawling ; And, heavily sprawling Through the wind-battered reeds, Through the rain-rotten weeds, Through the leprous and rich- Bubbling scum of the ditch, Croaketh and choketh the crapulous toad. With shock upon shock, And a deep under-thunder, On the black, dripping rock, The black billows sunder, And churn their blind bulk into yeast, — As a beast, Blind with terror and rage, On the bars of his cage I hashes out his brute life with a wild howl of wonder. DIRTY WEATHER. 79 With sigh upon sigh From a heart sick with sadness ; With tear-jaundiced eye, And a "brain wrung to madness With care, and the strife Between higher and lower Within me ; while life, Flowing slower and slower, Seems to stagnate and rot, — Here I sit — a mere hlot On the page of creation — Xo rare case, God wot ! — "With weak ululation Bewailing my lot ; While nation to nation, ( )£ freedom and glory and knowledge and love Is chanting in thunder-loud chorus, ahove The wild clang of battle, where, trampled in blood, Roll crowns and tiaras ; — and on at the flood Sweeps the clear wave of Progress. On, on may it sweep 80 DIRTY WEATHER. Till the Christ - ransomed millions of earth from the sleep < >f ignorance, vice, and oppression shall leap — From lazar and dungeon, full-armed in the might ( )f their God-moulded manhood — and hurl into night The fetters that hound them, The cerements that wound them, Soul, hody, and brain. And ahroad — to a strain Of such music as rang When the universe sprang Into heing — the bright flag of Freedom shall wave O'er a new world that knows neither bigot nor slave ! Hillo ! there's a collier got crippled ! — I see: "Us her fore-tackle. Up she has swung, and a-lee Goes heavily drifting right into the bay, Her dirty rags flapping in fog-mist and spray ; Her bandy Legged, cockle-eyed ' ski]),' I should say, S in a bit of a mess ; for they don't seem to know DIItTY WEATHER. 81 There's a sandbank out there — and the tide 's getting low. Well, no doubt it's a bore — but, of course, I must go And see if I can't lend the fellows a hand, Should they come — which is likely — as flotsam to land. F ^ A L N E. 'Twas eve ; the level sunlight fell Athwart the distant ocean-swell, And like a wreath of glory lay Along the ripples of the hay, That, curling inwards to the greener strand, Died in a starry gush along the golden sand. No thing of earthly mould was nigh, Save one lone skylark, trancedly Hymning up the cloudless sky, On the wings of his own wild melody. No other sound, — save when the breeze Sighed in the solemn chestnut trees, ALONE. 83 Or stirred the spear-grass by my side,— Answered the whispers of the tide ; And over all, like guardian spirit, shone Eve's "bright particular star," all lovely and alone ! I gazed upon the glimmering bay, I gazed into the tranquil sky, I heard the skylark's roundelay, I saw the waves glide glittering by, I felt the low winds round me sigh, And to my weary spirit said : "Why linger still beside the dead I Look forth from out thy living grave, Xor longer — freeborn — be the slave Of misery. Xo longer pine For happiness — already thine, If thou but choose to look abroad Upon the workmanship of God ! 1 seek the Beautiful, it sighed — It is around thee, I replied : S4 ALONE. Look forth into this glorious eve, But once look forth, and thou wilt own No sentient thing hath room to grieve, Whate'er hetide. With inward moan It answered — Am I not alone 1 85 AEIADNE: FOUR SKETCHES FROM THE ANTIQUE. I. He left her weeping on the .Naxian shore, And homeward with triumphant garlands bore. Through blinding tears she watched his lessening sail, And the sun burning on his brazen mail. Blent with the thunders of the hoary deep, Blent with the salt wind's wail, as if in sleep, She heard his voice grow fainter, as he trod The sounding deck victorious, like a god ! She heard the rowers singing as they rowed : She saw the fluttering sheen of Ogle's veil ; She heard her laughter on the freshening gale, 86 ARIADNE. And shrieked. "Well, Ariadne! may'st thou mourn : The perjured ingrate never will return. Another bosom, — ah ! less fair than thine ! — Shall pillow his proud head beyond the brine ; Another brow the Athenian crown shall share, And other arms bis Attic children bear ! — lint still she gazed, and still, with clasped hands Outstretched to Delos, knelt upon the sands, Till daylight died among the Cyclades, And darkness gathered o'er the desolate seas. I!. Smiles over all an azure-vaulted clime, — The wandering airs breathe odour of the rose, Thick-fallen fir-cones, moss, and dewy thyme, Blent with the cool wind from the sea that blows. Scattering the stars, the Olympian charioteer Hi-, beamy front upreareth; silently ARIADNE. 87 His cloud-borne coursers urge their steep career Up the rath purple of the eastern sky. Through the long grass — o'er the awakening flowers — Up the grey boles of cedar, beech, and pine, His golden splendours slant in arrowy showers, Or, snake-like, leap and twine. And hark ! from far the greenwood alleys ring With sistrum, cymbal, flute, and twangling string. With pipe and timbrel and Iacchic shout ! Io ! evoe ! ho ! In motley rout Through the deep umbrage, forth into the gleam Of morn, the frolic feres of Evan stream ! Here the lithe Indian, nursling of the sun, Wreathing bright snakes about his shoulders dun. Comes leaping. There, with smilax garlanded, The Ma?nad tosses her delirious head ; Xow the brown Satyr thumps the rooty ground With horny heel to Syrinx' liquid sound ; 88 ARIADNE. Xow the young Oread's milky beauties shine 'Neath emerald shadows of the liberal vine ; Now, by two sinewy Sylvans borne on high, Flushed with the god the Lesbian sage comes by, Chanting old ditties of Titanic wars, Thrumming his can, and winking at the stars That linger yet aloft — his joyous brow, Fresh twined with lustrous ivy, all a-glow ! While high o'erhead blushes the grape divine, Heavy with unborn wine ! in. Still as a stone, and pallid as a flower Reft by sharp Eurus from Aurora's bower, Under a marble cliff that guards the bay, Her dark locks heavy with the midnight spray, Alone the love-lorn Ariadne lay. She sleeps ! — but still her burning cheeks are wet, For in her dreams she mourns her Theseus yet ; ARIADNE. 89 Nor hears the blue-eyed daughters of the mam "Weave their wild songs to soothe her deathly pain. IV. Who in his purple chariot, panther-drawn, Bursts through the revel, glorious as the dawn — His dancing hair with tender vine-leaves crowned, His rosy feet with golden sandals bound '? Athwart his ivory shoulders, backwards blown By his own speed, a pard's light spoils are thrown ; In his soft hand the wreathed thyrsus gleams, And from his dark, bold eye the godhood beams ! To ! evoe ! ho ! — 'Tis he ! 'tis he ! Bacchus, the white-armed son of Semele ! Wake, Ariadne ! On the billowy strand He bends above thee, and with gentlest hand Smooths thy dank hair and breathes o'er cheek and brow, 90 ARIADNE. As breathes the spring o'er winter's waste of snow ; Breathes until once again the roses bud and blow ! Wake, Ariadne ! Night hath past away With all thy sorrow. See ! the joyous Day Comes dancing o'er the eastern foam. Arise, And shame him with the glory of thine eyes ; They were not made for tears, nor this white breast for sigli Wake, Ariadne ! by thy slumbering side Lyaeus kneels, and woos thee for his bride ; With him to roam from sunny shore to shore, A proud and peerless queen the wide world o'er ; Wake, Ariadne, wake! — be loved ! and weep no more ! 91 MONOD Y. The drifted rain is pelting, The sodden snow-wreaths melting ; Leafless boughs are creaking To the night-wind's doleful shrieking ; The river runs below, With stilly-gurgling flow. Like the stifled breath of woe : Well-a-day ! Wealth — honour — Avhat are they I 1 H-lusive lights that play Around the dead heart's grave ! Better, methinks, to have Children to climb our knees, 92 MONODY. Love's cares and charities, Than hollow mocks like these : Well-a-day ! Affection — quiet — health, The wise man's truest wealth, And hast thou sold them all To buy — a Funeral ! To gild a lonely bier That stranger hands must bear, Unhallowed by love's tear, To the clay ! 93 W I N T E R Dead asleep the old earth lies, Happed ahotit with mounded snow ; The wan moon low to westward dies ; The bitter night-winds shrilly blow. With muffled beat of horses' feet, That echo songs of long ago, Through desert wold, through village street, From dark to dark we onward go. So toils my life from dark to dark, Toils onward, wearily and slow ; ]S r o star above its course to mark, Nor any haven of rest below. 94 WINTER. A.S one may weep in frenzied sleep O'er his own form in death laid low. My heart doth tearful vigil keep By her own grave in tranced woe. 95 DIEG E. In mine ear a death-bell ringeth, And a sad voice ever singe th : Time is speeding on his way ; Xight treads on the skirts of day ; All things hasten to decay ; Old years revive not ; glory cannot shed Sunshine around the heart when golden youth is fled. The Past is dead. The Present dies In birth. The faithless Future flies Us ever : as in dreams we see Some bright-robed, beauteous phantom flee, Yet court pursuit — till suddenly In some lone spot she turns, and Ave unfold A crumbling corpse obscene, or night-hag grisly old. 96 WAR-SO N G. 1854. I. Ha ! once again O'er land and main Our battle-flag is flying ! Ha ! once again Our freeborn men In Freedom's cause are dying ! The grand old Lion \s up once more, True to his kingly nature ; Come not between him and his prej', Slave, coward, fool, or traitor ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! The Old Land 's true as ever ! No despot's foot shall trample Us, Or those who trust us — Never ! WAR- SONG, !)7 II. Have recreants said Our hearts are dead To justice and to glory I Cried " Stand aloof ! " Though. Russia's hoof In Europe's blood wax gory ? Theirs be their country's hate and scorn Through all the coming ages ! Well have they plied their trade of shame — 'Tis right they have their wages ! But, Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Our hearts are true as ever ! No despot's foot shall tread on Us, < )r those who trust us — Never ! in. 1 hit tears must fall, In hut and hall, For loved ones unreturning,— G 98 WAR -SONG. High hearts and brave, Who bled to save The laud from deeper mourning ! They hied ! — we weep ! — But in our task Sublime, we dare not falter : To guard from shame the sacred flame On Freedom's glorious altar ! Xo — No ! — Hurrah ! Hurrah ! The Old Land \s true as ever ! God's arm of might will shield the right 1 Then strike ! This hour — or Never ! IV. Yes, though Ave weep For those who sleep By Alma's doleful water, And those who died In that wild ride ' H' unavailing slaughter, Still we exult ; for in our veins WAR-SONG. 99 The same free blood is bounding ! And east or north we'll pour it forth, Where'er the charge is sounding ! Then, Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! The Old Land 's true as ever ! No despot's foot shall trample Us, Or those who trust us — Never ! LOO THE TOMB IN THE CHANCEL. TO \V. EL P. I. Up from the willowy Wharfe the white haze crept, The yellow leaves were falling one by one, When through the Priory nave we softly stepl To where — his clangorous life-moil long since clone- Sir Everard Raby in his hauberk slept, In the still chancel corner, all alone. Ah ! time had used him roughly ! Helm and shield All banged and battered, as in mortal field ; The knightly baldric brast, the brave sword gone Thai won his spurs at dusty Ascalon ! But broken harness or dishonoured crest, Boote not to him so meekly slumbering there, THE TOMB IN TTIK CHANCEL. LO] With stony feet crossed in eternal rest, And stony lingers locked in everlasting prayer. ii. The autumn sunlight touched his carven mail With ghostly radiance — cyclas, helt, and lace ; Scattered wan splendours all about the place, And with fantastic necromancy played Amongst the dust onr quiet moving made ; While o'er his suppliant hands and heavenward face It hung a mournful glory, soft and pale, As if, through mist of half- remembered tears, It shone from far, the light of buried years !- We leaned in silence on the oaken rail, And, 'mid the hush, this thought swelled like a psalm In my heart's sanctuary : that we, too, might bear ( >ur cross through life's stern conflict, as to wear In death, like him, the crown of everlasting calm. 102 S U M M E E W I X 1). Soul of Hue summer! cool-"winged Psyche ! thou Who, stealing through the roses, on my brow Printest an odorous kiss, and then art gone ! Would that unbodied I might fly with thee Where'er thou fliest. Then what ecstasy Were mine, in forests wandering, green and lorn- ; By woodland tarn ; by willowy, winding stream. Where lotus-buds lie, tranced in shadowy dream, < )n their smooth fronds, the long voluptuous day : i hr haply, where at eve the hoary sea Swims with hroad bosom up sonic quiet bay. Uhd'T tin- haunted crags of Sicily, What time the white-limbed Xcreids, hand in hand, Dance to the Cyclops' piping o'er the dimpled -and. 103 AUTUMN WIND. Blow thy wild clarion o'er the darkening wold, Weird Autumn Wind, for thou art conqueror ! And, like a conqueror, robed in purple and gold, Dost ride triumphing. At thy tyrannous hlore Pomona quakes, and to appease thy wrath Scatters her garnered glories in thy path. Queen Ceres bows with earthward trailing hair Before thee. At the rattling of thy wheels Strong Faunus moans, and bends beneath them, bare Of all his verdurous honours. Bromius reels, To do thee boisterous homage, from his car, Bed from the laughing vintage. While from far Poseidon shouts to swell the brave uproar, And strews with votive wrecks the loud- resound ms shore. 104 THE SONG OF SILENUS. FIRST SKETCH FOR A PICTURE. (Virg. Hue. Eol. vi.) I. Sixc, Pierides ! how, on the ground, These frolic children of Arcadian Pan Deep in a cave the quaint Silenus found, Heavy with sleep, beside his well-worn can. The wreaths wherewith last night the Nymphs had crowned The fervid brows of the divine old man Lay strewn about ; with these they bound eftsoon. And bore him sleeping forth into the azure noon. Till: SONG OF SILENU8. L05 II. Upon a hillock, mossy-soft and green, They set him down to catch th' iEgean breeze, When forth with laughter from her sedgy screen Leapt ^Egle, fairest of the Xaiades, And, as the Lesbian ope'd his wildered een, Plucked, tiptoe-poised, a branch of mulberries, And, kneeling, daubed his brow and temples grey, While prone in leafy gyves he unresisting lay. ill. I 'leased with tin; deed — more with the doer pleased- Lowly he laughed. Then to the Sylvans cried, " What means this bondage 1 Wherefore am I seized Thus impiously ? Enough that ye have eyed A god asleep !" — " The song — and thou'rt released," They answered, "promised oft and long denied !" '• Inbind me, then !" 'Twas done ; and from his can, ( i rape -tilled anew by ^Lgle, quaffing, he began. L06 THE SONG OF SILENUS. IV. " The song for you" he said ; " for her I'll find Another recompense ! " — Then forth he threw His voice euphonious to the listening wind, That hore it far the echoing forest through, Till the broad oaks their stubborn heads inclined, And Satyrs, Oreads, Fauns — a motley crew — From rock and thicket, glade and grove, advance, Weaving ar< mini the spot then wildly- measured dance. v. Not more rejoices the Castalian rock In Phoebus; not old Khodope the frore In him whose love-lorn numbers did unlock The gates of Dis, and from the Stygian short; Won back Eurydice — (ah, bitter mock ! Twice lost— and lost at last for evermore, Through too much love) — than in Ids honeyed voice. The listening woods and all the woodland feres rejoice ! THE SONG OF SILENUS. LO' VI. He sang the dawn of Nature — mystic theme ! — How, from the chaos of primeval night, Robed in bright billows — beauteous as a dream— The virgin earth leapt laughing into light, And bared her genial bosom, all a-gleam With flowers, as Helios in his joy and might, From the vast caverns of the eternal void, Sprang forth on burning plumes and clasped her as his bride. VII. lie sang of gods and heroes : how the sire < >f Zeus had kinged it in the world's fair prime ; ( )f haught Prometheus, by the Thunderer's ire Stretched lone on Caucasus ; the impious crime I >t' Atalante, and the sufferings dirt' Of the young Heliads ; then the mournful rhyme Of Tireus chinls and tongueless Philomel, And gentle Scylla curst by I Jirce's cruel spell. L08 THE SONG OF SILENUS. VIII. The loves of Zeus and Semele lie sang : How Dionysus of the "wondrous birth, With Lydian flutings and the silvery clang < >f cymbals, rode a-conquering through the earth ; How, where he trode, the clustered vine up-sprang, And haggard care danced hand in hand with mirth : How peerless Ariadne won his love, And swart Agave raged in the Cadmean grove. IX. dp from the yEgean swept the salt sea-breeze, And shook the white lucks round his glowing brow; Then sang he how the blue-eyed boys of < rreece Launched the swift ship, and drove with ventur- ous prow To realms of wonder, far o'er unknown seas, And back, triumphing, from its sacred bough, By many a haunted isle and alien shore, The golden trophy home to dear-loved Helas bore. THE SONG OF SILENUS. 1<>9 X. < )f fate, of love, of heaven-sent poesy 1 1 c sang, till Phoebus from his sloping car Leaned back to hear ; and through the boughs on high The large-eyed Vesper gazed, all loth to bar The stream of song. But now the plaintive cry ( )f flocks, from darkening wolds, proclaimed afar The folding hour. He ceased, and down a glade, Amid the deepening shadows, vanished like a shade. 110 KIXG GOLDIMAR IiKTWKEX the setting of the sun And rising of the evening star, Deep in the greenwood glade alone She met King Goldimar. A milk-white steed he lightly strode, With jewelled falchion at his knee, Willi -olden casque and golden spur, And graith of samite, fair to see : And thus he rode to win her Love, From Avalun, the fays' countree. KING GOLDIMAR. Ill II. He louted low from saddle bow, He breathed into the maiden's ear ; And in the silence of the wood Her heart stood still to hear ! He swung her deftly np on steed ; He gave her charmed kisses three : Says, " Golden crown for locks of gold, Sweet Ladye, an thon wend with me : " — And forth into the night they rode To Avalun, the fays' countree. 112 NARCISSUS A FRAGMENT. He strode apart in youthful pride, His clustered locks on either side I turned down upon his shoulders wide — The beautiful Narcissus. His belted bosom full and fair ( rleamed out beneath his gleaming hair, His lordly length of limb was bare — The hunter-boy Narcissus. Athwarl his broad back, bow and quiver In the sunlight glance and shiver, .NARCISSUS. 113 As, adown the forest river, Passed the young Narcissus : By brattling swift and slumbering pool, Shadowed by alders green and cool, A form divinely beautiful — The hunter-boy Narcissus. For him the nut-brown Dryad grieves, Deep hidden in her bower of leaves, For hiru on musky summer eves — The beautiful Narcissus — The Naiads quit their glaucous flocks To sing about the glimmering rocks, Or trip the sand with floating locks For haughty-eyed Narcissus. For him pale Echo weeps apart — Her cold hand on her burning heart — She cannot tell her cureless smart, hunter-boy Narcissus ! h 114 NARCISSUS. But when she hears his bugle-horn Far-winding in the dewy morn, She shrieks aloud — he laughs in scorn ! The beautiful Xarcissus. 115 THRENODY. The spider in the jasmine leaves, Her fairy web of silver weaves ; All round the breezy cottage eaves I hear the busy swallows : The bee hums round liis mossy door, The stream flows on with joyous roar, The starry ripples race ashore Across the gleaming shallows. Sheep are bleating, kine are lowing, Children shouting, barn-fowl crowing, "Winds athwart the mountains blowing Waves of shine and shadow : To their lightsome labour bound The merry reapers, autumn-browned ; 116 THRENODY. And the dripping wheel goes round, By the mill-dams in the meadow. Like living chords of one great lyre, Swept by a seraph's plumes of fire, Like voices of one mighty choir Blent in one psalm of gladness, All things rejoice ; my heart, alone Discordant, yields no joyous tone, But one dull, inarticulate moan, One weary wail of sadness. Even as a blasted tree may stand, All leafless in a summer-land, In vain by genial breezes fanned, By shower and sunshine haunted ; So, sunned by all the warm delight Of tin's young day — so purely bright — I stand in darkness, by the might Of Memory enchanted. Tin; KNOHY. 1 I i I see the infinite loveliness Of God's fair universe — can bless His creatures in their "blessedness, Despite my own heart's aching : But never more my soul may know The thrill of sympathy, the glow Of love that stirred it long ago, In youth's divine upwaking. 118 "MY LADY." 'Twas a stately English maiden, Proud of step and calm of mien, With a red mouth like a rosebud, And the bosom of a queen, ii. That far down the summer woodland, Culling flowers, had lost her way When we met among the brackens At the closing of the day. in. Never lovelier vision wandered, In the young world's age of gold, "MY LADY." H9 Through, green Tempe's bowers elysian, Or Hesperian gardens old. IV. Ne'er to lonely knight of later Ages, bound on perilous quest Through enchanted forest, sweeter Witch or woman stood confest. Ne'er through royal Shakespeare's pages, Or strong Chaucer's pulsing line, Or pure Spenser's crystal stanzas, Floated phantom so divine ! VI. But, diviner than all phantoms Of the teeming poet-brain ; Youth, like a sweet breeze, about her ; Life a-glow in every vein ! — L20 " MY LADY.'' VII. Life, that through her very garments Seemed to palpitate and burn, Like a mystic flame that flushes Through an alahaster urn : VIII. Till the very dust she trode on With her silent silken feet, And the air her cpiickened breathing Mule so strangely, wildly sweet, IX. Took a glory from her presence, As a wreath of vapour dun Turns to amethyst and beryl In the presence of the sun ! x. ' > ! those dark locks, ever darkening With tin- darkening of the even ! MY LADY." 1-1 < 1 ! those bright eyes, ever brightening As the stars grew bright in heaven ! XI. ! those whispers, like the night-wind — Through my brain they vibrate yet ! (Syllables of magic import, To the heart's deep music set ! XII. ! that purple July gloaming ! ! that husht and shadowy nook, Where, alone with that sweet sibyl, First I conned love's mystic book ! — XIII. Where young I Doubts, hopes, and wishes strangely blent In sweet, contenting nncontent ! IV. T see thee not, I clasp thee not ; Yet feel I thou art nigh, Shedding around this lonely spot The dews of melody ; Shedding from thine aerial wings, And from thy swift and viewless feet, A shower of dulcet murmurings, And wandering odours faint and sweet, That steal about my soul, and lull To peace its wailings sorrowful With a delicious calm, a rest Which even to dream were to be blest : Although it- very sweetness wrings The heart with strange, mysterious pain — Moving upon the frozen springs Of feeling, till their waters rain L52 TO TnE SUMMER WIND. In burning tear-drops from the eye, I feel not how — I know not why ! Xor know I if 'tis joy or woe Impels them in their fiery flow. But this I wote : that sweeter far Than all delights of sense they are ; That rather would I dwell with thee Alone in these green solitudes, Than share the loud world's thoughtless glee, Thou minstrel of the summer woods ! — Thou whisperer by the summer sea ! For thou in all my spirit's moods Hast still a spirit-sympathy, Love-taught, I fondly will believe ! Or never could thy tranced voice With such delicious sadness grieve ; With such wild mirth rejoice ! v. Ha ! art thou fled ?— I felt but now TO THE SUMMER WIND. I 53 Thy faint lips kiss ruy wooing brow ; Felt thy far-floating locks with mine Their odorous tresses intertwine With soothing freshness ; heard thy song Amid the leaves, around, above — Now like the stifled breath of love, When eyes are dim, and fond lips press The first sweet grape of tenderness — Low, tremulous and long ! Now like the tinkling of a rill That falls into a lake — Some tiny tarn upon a hill That fairy Mab her bath might make. If she and her fantastic train Should ever roam the earth again ! Now like the song of summer birds — The mingling song of birds and bees ; Now like the long-forgotten words Eecalled by whispering twilight trees In July gloamings, when alone l;-)4 TO THE SUMMER WIND. We muse on loved ones changed or gone ; Now like the echoes of a flute Heard in some leafy dell, Low-warbling till the birds are mnte ; Now like a distant bell, Whose saintly summons, silvery-clear, Falls on the homeward boatman's ear, At twilight's holy hour, From out the depths of the rosy air, Calling his soul to silent prayer With still, small voice of power ! 155 THE APOLLO OF THE VATICAX. God of the golden locks and beamy brow ! Embodied splendour ! Phoebus- Apollo ! Thou. Time-born, but heir of immortality ! Still stand'st thou radiant — like a mighty star, Darting supernal effluence afar O'er the slow stream of change, that, rolling by, Hath swept from earth Religions, Peoples, Crowns — Like vapour down into the silent sea Of grey Oblivion — leaving uninjured Thee, Its marble conqueror ! Still that proud lip frowns In scornful triumph o'er thy prostrate foe, The earth-spawned Python, Mutability ! Still from that stern, indomitable eye The arrowy lightnings flash that laid the reptile low. Rome, 1861. 156 A CONFESSION. Xo, Buonarroti, thou shalt not subdue My mind with thy Thor-hammer ! All that play ( >f ponderous science with Titanic thew And spastic tendon — marvellous, 'tis true ! — Says nothing to my soul. Thy " terrible way " Has led enow of worshippers astray ; I will not walk therein ! JS T or yet shalt thou, Majestic Raphael, — though before thee bow The nations, with their tribute of renoAvn, — Lead my heart captive. Great thou art, I own, — < rreat — but a Pagan still. But Here — breathe low, The place is hallowed — here, Angelico ! Heart, mind, and soul, with reverent love, confess The ( 'lui.stiiin Painter ; sent to purify and bless ! Chapel of Nicholas V., Vatican, 1861. 157 ST PETEE'S: A TYPE. And this is San Pietro ! This the shrine Where, for so many centuries, have howed In ahject awe the unreflecting crowd Of votaries — even as to a thing divine ! But men begin to know thee now, and smile At their past blindness : seeing thee most vile, Despite thy braggart bulk and vulgar waste Of precious things— faith, genius, energy — Most precious they of all ; and most misplaced Thus dedicate, prodigious Sham, to Thee ! — Within, without, o'erwritten with the name Of the crowned Beast, and blazoned with the sham<' ( )f his pollution ! Shall it long be so, Just Heaven 1 — My heart is sick and angry ; let us go Rome, October 1861. 158 AT VEBONA. The moon is full, as on that balmy night When love-lorn Juliet called her Romeo In maiden-treble, tremulous and low : Half sigh, half song ; and from the odorous gloom Of myrtle boughs and jasmine rich with bloom His voice made answer through the silvery light, In proud Verona, here, so long ago ! — Now, other echoes fill thy outraged halls : The heavy tramp of Austrian sentinels ; The ceaseless drum-roll, and the signal's boom From fort to fort. The clanking of the chain That holds thee — but not long shall hold ! — in thrall, Fair city ! Thy blind Despot strives in vain ; Freedom is on the march ! — Dost hear her trumpet .•all I . 36 1 159 AT FLOEENCE. From Bellos-guardo as the sun went down I gazed on queenly Florence where she lay Smiling among her olives, silvery grey ; Like topaz gleamed her many-towered crown ; And like some golden river of the hlest, Swept Arno by her marble palaces, — Through plains more fair than musing Fancy sees In sunset heavens, — towards the golden west. But not her loveliness, nor that which claims A wider homage from a subject world — Her proud aureola of deathless names ! Made my heart glow : — I saw a flag unfurled In the clear air : the Flag of Italy ! That told of Tyrants crushed and a Great People Free! 1861. l'HIXTKD BV WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. Form L9 THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA I. OS ANGELES uc SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 374 541 1 ,/BURN 1