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Between thee and me
What diff'rence? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.

Smiling they live, and call life pleas

ure; To me that cup has been dealt in another

measure.

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I love Love — though he has wings,
And like light can flee,

Yet now despair itself is mild
But above all other things,

Even as the winds and waters are;

I could lie down like a tired child, Spirit, I love theeThou art love and life! O come!

And weep away the life of care

Which I have borne, and yet must Make once more my heart thy home!

bear, Till death like sleep might steal on

me,

And I might feel in the warm air STANZAS WRITTEN IN DEJEC- My cheek grow cold, and hear the TION NEAR NAPLES.

Breathe o'er my dying brain its last The sun is warm, the sky is clear,

monotony. The waves are dancing fast and

bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
The purple noon's transparent light:

THE FLIGHT OF LOVE.
The breath of the moist air is light
Around its unexpanded buds;

WHEN the lamp is shatter'd
Like many a voice of one delight - The light in the dust lies dead-
The winds', the birds', the ocean-

When the cloud is scatter'd, floods'

The rainbow's glory is shed. The City's voice itself is soft like Soli

When the lute is broken,
tude's.

Sweet tones are remember'd not;
When the lips have spoken,

Loved accents are soon forgot.
I see the Deep's untrampled foor
With green and purple sea-weeds

As mus and splendor
strown;

Survive not the lamp and the lute, I see the waves upon the shore

The heart's echoes render Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown:

No song when the spirit is mute

No song but sad dirges, I sit upon the sands alone;

Like the wind through a ruin'd cell, The lightning of the noon-tide ocean

Or the mournful surges
Is flashing round me, and a tone

That ring the dead seaman's knell.
Arises from its measured motion
How sweet! did any heart now share When hearts have once mingled,
in my emotion.

Love first leaves the well-built nest;

The weak one is singled Alas! I have nor hope nor health, To endure what it once possessed. Nor peace within nor calm around, O Love! who bewailest Nor that Content surpassing wealth The frailty of all things here, The sage in meditation found, Why choose you the frailest And walk'd with inward glory For your cradle, your home, and your crown'd

bier? Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure;

Its passions will rock thee Others I see whom these surround - As the storms rock the ravens on high;

Bright reason will mock thee
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.

Where the melting hoar-frost wets
The daisy-star that never sets,
And wind-flowers and violets
Which yet join not scent to hue
Crown the pale year weak and new;
When the night is left behind
In the deep east, dim and blind,
And the blue noon is over us,
And the multitudinous
Billows murmur at our feet,
Where the earth and ocean meet,
And all things seem only one
In the universal Sun.

THE INVITATION.

[To Fane.] Best and Brightest, come away, Fairer far than this fair day, Which, like thee, to those in sorrow Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough year just awake In its cradle on the brake. The brightest hour of unborn Spring Through the winter wandering, Found, it seems, the halcyon morn To hoar February born; Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth, It kiss'd the forehead of the earth, And smiled upon the silent sea, And bade the frozen streams be free, And waked to music all their fountains, And breathed upon the frozen moun

tains, And like a prophetess of May Strew'd flowers upon the barren way, Making the wintry world appear Like one on whom thou smilest, Dear. Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downsTo the silent wilderness Where the soul need not repress Its music, lest it should not find An echo in another's mind, While the touch of Nature's art, Harmonizes heart to heart.

LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR.

I ARISE from dreams of Thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing lov
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me — who knows how?
To thy chamber-window, Sweet !
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream-
The champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint
It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on thine
O beloved as thou art !
O lift me from the grass !
I die, I faint, I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;
0! press it close to thine again
Where it will break at last.

Radiant Sister of the Day Awake! arise! and come away! To the wild woods and the plains, To the pools where winter rains Image all their roof of leaves, Where the pine its garland weaves Of sapless green, and ivy dun, Round stems that never kiss the sun, Where the lawns and pastures be And the sandhills of the sea,

ODE TO THE WEST WIND.

1. O WILD West Wind, thou breath of

Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the

leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an edo

chanter fleeing,

ers

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic

III. red,

Thou who didst waken from his summer Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,

dreams Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The blue Mediterranean, where he lay

Lulled by the coil of his crystalline The winged seeds, where they lie cold

streams, and low, Each like a corpse within its grave,

Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, until

And saw in sleep old palaces and towThine azure sister of the spring shall blow

Quivering within the wave's intenser

day, Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill

All overgrown with azure moss and (Driving sweet birds like flocks to feed

flowers in air)

So sweet, the sense faints picturing With living hues and odors plain and

them! Thou hill:

For whose path the Atlantic's level Wild Spirit, which art moving every

powers where;

Cleave themselves into chasms, while Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!

far below

The sea-blooms and the oozy woods II.

which wear Thou on whose stream, ʼmid the steep

The sapless foliage of the ocean, know sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray

with fear, are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of

And tremble and despoil themselves :

Oh hear!
Heaven and Ocean,

IV.

Angels of rain and lightning: there are

spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the

head

If I were a dead leaf thou mightesh

bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee, A wave to pant beneath thy power, ani'

share

dim verge

Of some fierce Maenad, even from the The impulse of thy strength, only les.

free Of the horizon to the zenith's height, Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even The locks of the approaching storm. I were as in my boyhood, and could be Thou dirge

The comrade of thy wanderings over Of the dying year, to which this closing

heaven, night

As then, when to outstrip the skiey Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,

speed Vaulted with all thy congregated might Scarce seemed a vision, I would ne'er

have striven Of vapors, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: As thus with thee in prayer in my sore Oh hear!

need.

Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chained

and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift,

and proud.

But none ever trembled and panted

with bliss In the garden, the field, or the wilder

ness, Like a doe in the noontide with love's

sweet want, As the companionless Sensitive Plant.

V.

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Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is :

The snowdrop, and then the violet, What if my leaves are falling like its

Arose from the ground with warm rain own!

wet, The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

And their breath was mixed with fresh

odor, sent Will take from both a deep autumnal

From the turf, like the voice and the

instrument. tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce,

Then the pied wind-flowers and the My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one !

tulip tall,

And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Drive my dead thoughts over the uni

Who gaze on their eyes in the strean's

recess, Like withered leaves to quicken a new

Till they die of their own dear lovelibirth; And, by the incantation of this verse,

And the naiad-like lily of the vale, Scatter, as from an unextinguished

Whom youth makes so fair and passion hearth

so pale, Ashes and sparks, my words among

That the light of its tremulous bells is mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened

Through their pavilions of tender green; earth

And the hyacinth purple, and white, The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind,

and blue, If Winter comes, can Spring be far be

Which Aung from its bells a sweet peal hind?

Of music so delicate, soft and intense, TO THE SENSITIVE PLANT.

It was felt like an odor within the sense, A SENSITIVE PLANT in a garden grew,

And the rose like a nymph to the bath And the young winds fed it with silver

addrest, dew,

Which unveiled the depth of her glowAnd it opened its fan-like leaves to the

ing breast, light,

Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air And closed them beneath the kisses of The soul of her beauty and love las night.

bare; And the spring arose on the garden And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, fair,

As a Maenad, its moonlight-colored And the Spirit of Love fell everywhere;

сир, And each flower and herb on Earth's | Till the fiery star, which is its eye, dark breast

Gazed through the clear dew on the Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

tender sky;

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And the sinuous paths of lawn and of For the Sensitive Plant has no bright moss,

flower; Which led through the garden along Radiance and odor are not its dower; and across,

It loves, even like Love, its deep heart Some open at once to the sun and the

is full, breeze,

It desires what it has not, the beautiful! Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees,

The light winds, which from unsustain

ing wings

Shed the music of many murmurings; Were all paved with daisies and delicate

The beams which dart from many a star bells, As fair as the fabulous asphodels,

Of the flowers whose hues they bear And flowerets which drooping as day

afar; drooped too,

The plumed insects, swift and free, Fell into pavilions, white, purple, and

Like golden boats on a sunny sea, blue,

Laden with light and odor, which pass To roof the glow-worm from the evening

Over the gleam of the living grass; dew.

The unseen clouds of the dew, which And from this undehled Paradise

lie The flowers (as an infant's awakening Like fire in the flowers till the sun rides eyes

high, Smile on its mother, whose singing Then wander like spirits among the sweet

spheres, Can first lull, and at last must awaken

Each cloud faint with the fragrance it it),

bears;

When heaven's blithe winds had un

folded them, As inine-lamps enkindle a hidden gem,

The quivering vapors of dim noontide,
Which, like a sca, o'er the warm eart

glide,

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