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A LOVE SYMPHONY

ALONG the garden ways just now

I heard the flowers speak;

The white rose told me of your brow,
The red rose of your cheek;
The lily of your bended head,
The bindweed of your hair;
Each looked its loveliest and said
You were more fair.

I went into the wood anon,

And heard the wild birds sing, How sweet you were, they warbled on, Piped, trilled, the selfsame thing. Thrush, blackbird, linnet, without pause, The burden did repeat,

And still began again because

You were more sweet.

And then I went down to the sea,

And heard it murmuring too,
Part of an ancient mystery,
All made of me and you:
How many a thousand years ago
I loved, and you were sweet
Longer I could not stay, and so
I fled back to your feet.

LYNMOUTH

AROUND my love and me the brooding hills,

Full of delicious murmurs, rise on high,

Closing upon this spot the summer fills,
And over which there rules the summer sky.

Behind us on the shore down there the sea
Roars roughly, like a fierce pursuing hound;
But all this hour is calm for her and me;
And now another hill shuts out the sound.

And now we breathe the odors of the glen,
And round about us are enchanted things;
The bird that hath blithe speech unknown to men,
The river keen, that hath a voice and sings.

The tree that dwells with one ecstatic thought,
Wider and fairer growing year by year,
The flower that flowereth and knoweth naught,
The bee that scents the flower and draweth near.

Our path is here; the rocky winding ledge
That sheer o'erhangs the rapid shouting stream
Now dips down smoothly to the quiet edge,

Where restful waters lie as in a dream.

The green exuberant branches overhead
Sport with the golden magic of the sun,
Here quite shut out, here like rare jewels shed
To fright the glittering lizards as they run.
And wonderful are all those mossy floors

Spread out beneath us in some pathless place Where the sun only reaches and outpours

His smile, where never a foot hath left a trace.

And there are perfect nooks that have been made By the long growing tree, through some chance

turn

Its trunk took; since transform'd with scent and shade

And filled with all the glory of the fern.

And tender-tinted wood flowers are seen,

Clear starry blooms and bells of pensive blue, That lead their delicate lives there in the green What were the world if it should lose their hue?

Even o'er the rough out-jutting stone that blocks The narrow way some cunning hand hath strewn The moss in rich adornment, and the rocks

Down there seem written thick with many a rune.*

And here, upon that stone, we rest awhile,
For we can see the lovely river's fall,
And wild and sweet the place is to beguile
My love, and keep her till I tell her all.

* Rune secret.

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)....
Ah happy youths, ah happy maid..
All thoughts, all passions, all delights..
All's over, then: does truth sound bitter..
Along the garden ways just now.....

And is this - Yarrow? This the stream.

And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!)..
Around my love and me the brooding hills..
Art thou pale for weariness..

As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay..

At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time.
Bid me to live, and I will live..

Blow, blow, thou winter wind..

Break, break, break..

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Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art.
But do not let us quarrel any more..

Comrades, leave me here a little...

Cold in the earth-and the deep snow piled above thee 203
"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land... 164
Drink to me only with thine eyes........
Earth has not anything to show more fair.
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky....
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing..
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea.

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Go from me.

Yet I feel that I shall stand..

God makes sech nights, all white an' still..

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!..

Half a league, half a league..

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He who hath bent him o'er the dead..

Hear, my beloved, an old Milesian story!.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..

I arise from dreams of thee.....

I come from haunts of coot and hern...

I have had playmates, I have had companions..

I met a traveller from an antique land...

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I said Then, dearest, since 'tis so..

I shot an arrow into the air....

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If thou must love me, let it be for naught..

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Just for a handful of silver he left us.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds..
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear..
Most sweet it is with un-uplifted eyes...
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold....
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains.
My luve is like a red, red rose..

No longer mourn for me when I am dead..
O never say that I was false of heart..

O nightingale that on yon bloomy spray.

O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South....

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