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Long alleys falling down to twilight

grots,

Or opening upon level plots

Of crowned lilies, standing near

Purple-spiked lavender:

Whither in after life retired
From brawling storms,

From weary wind,

With youthful fancy reinspired,

We may hold converse with all forms
Of the many-sided mind,

And those whom passion hath not blinded,
Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded.
My friend, with you to live alone,
Were how much better than to own
A crown, a sceptre, and a throne !
O strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.

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ADELINE.

I.

MYSTERY of mysteries,
Faintly smiling Adeline,
Scarce of earth nor all divine,
Nor unhappy, nor at rest,
But beyond expression fair
With thy floating flaxen hair;
Thy rose-lips and full blue eyes

Take the heart from out my breast.
Wherefore those dim looks of thine,
Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?

II.

Whence that aery bloom of thine,
Like a lily which the sun
Looks thro' in his sad decline,
And a rose-bush leans upon,
Thou that faintly smilest still,
As a Naiad in a well,
Looking at the set of day,
Or a phantom two hours old
Of a maiden past away,
Ere the placid lips be cold?
Wherefore those faint smiles of thine,
Spiritual Adeline?

III.

What hope or fear or joy is thine?
Who talketh with thee, Adeline?
For sure thou art not all alone:
Do beating hearts of salient springs
Keep measure with thine own?

Hast thou heard the butterflies
What they say betwixt their wings?
Or in stillest evenings

With what voice the violet wooes
To his heart the silver dews?

Or when little airs arise,
How the merry bluebell rings

To the mosses underneath?
Hast thou look'd upon the breath
Of the lilies at sunrise?
Wherefore that faint smile of thine,
Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?

IV.

Some honey-converse feeds thy mind,
Some spirit of a crimson rose

In love with thee forgets to close
His curtains, wasting odorous sighs
All night long on darkness blind.
What aileth thee? whom waitest thou
With thy soften'd, shadow'd brow,

And those dew-lit eyes of thine,
Thou faint smiler, Adeline?

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In your eye there is death,
There is frost in your breath
Which would blight the plants.
Where you stand you cannot hear
From the groves within

The wild-bird's din. In the heart of the garden the merry bird chants,

It would fall to the ground if you came in.
In the middle leaps a fountain
Like sheet lightning,
Ever brightening

With a low melodious thunder;
All day and all night it is ever drawn
From the brain of the purple mountain
Which stands in the distance yonder :

And in her raiment's hem was traced in It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven above,

flame

WISDOM, a name to shake

And when she spake,

All evil dreams of power-a sacred name. And it sings a song of undying love; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and full, You never would hear it; your ears are so dull;

Her words did gather thunder as they

ran,

And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riving the spirit of man, Making earth wonder,

So was their meaning to her words. No sword

Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word

She shook the world.

THE POET'S MIND.

I.

VEX not thou the poet's mind
With thy shallow wit:
Vex not thou the poet's mind;

For thou canst not fathom it. Clear and bright it should be ever, Flowing like a crystal river; Bright as light, and clear as wind.

II.

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear;
All the place is holy ground;
Hollow smile and frozen sneer
Come not here.

Holy water will I pour
Into every spicy flower

Of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around.
The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer.

So keep where you are: you are foul with sin;

It would shrink to the earth if you came

in.

THE SEA-FAIRIES.

SLOW sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam,

Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest

To little harps of gold; and while they mused,

Whispering to each other half in fear, 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;

Down shower the gambolling waterfalls 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; | O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten

Here it is only the mew that wails;
We will sing to you all the day:
Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,
For here are the blissful downs and dales,
And merrily, merrily carol the gales,
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;

When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords

Runs up the ridged sea.

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.

I.

And the rainbow hangs on the poising LIFE and Thought have gone away

wave,

And sweet is the color of cove and cave,
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:

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten With pleasure and love and jubilee :

Side by side, Leaving door and windows wide Careless tenants they !

II.

All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.

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