Beneath the shivering, snow-white sails. Hush the wind flags and failsHush they will lie becalmed in sight of strand-- I will not mar the web, Though sad I am to see the small lives ebb. Sight of my strand, where I do It shakes-my trees shake-for a dwell alone; Their songs wake singing echoes in my land They cannot hear me moan. One latest, solitary swallow flies Across the sea, rough autumntempest-tost: Poor bird, shall it be lost? Dropped down into this uncongenial sea, With no kind eyes To watch it while it dies, The short pang past, In sleep, in death, in dreamless sleep locked fast. Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks, Some rent by thunder strokes, Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze; Fair fall my fertile trees, That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease. A spider's web blocks all mine avenue; He catches down and foolish painted flies, That spider wary and wise. Each morn it hangs a rainbow strung with dew Betwixt boughs green with sap, So fair, few creatures guess it is a trap: wind is roused In cavern where it housed: Hollows and strains in the fullthroated gale: Each maiden sings againEach languid maiden, whom the calm Had lulled to sleep with rest and spice and balm. Miles down my river to the sea Perhaps they say: 'She grieves, Uplifted like a beacon on her tower.' Perhaps they say: 'One hour More, and we dance among the golden sheaves.' Perhaps they say: 'One hour Face to face, hand in hand; Make haste, O slack gale, to the looked-for land!' My trees are not in flower, I have no bower, And gusty creaks my tower, And lonesome, very lonesome, is my strand. 14 April 1858. They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; DOES the road wind up-hill at the They sang, they jested, and they laughed, For each was loved of each. I listened to their honest chat. Said one 'To-morrow we shall be Plod plod along the featureless sands, And coasting miles and miles of sea.'b Said one: Before the turn of tide We will achieve the eyrie-seat.' Said one: To-morrow shall be like To-day, but much more sweet.' 'To-morrow,' said they, strong with hope, And dwelt upon the pleasant way: 'To-morrow,' cried they one and all, While no one spoke of yesterday. Their life stood full at blessed noon; I, only I, had passed away : 'To-morrow and to-day,' they cried; I was of yesterday. I shivered comfortless, but cast To stay and yet to part how loth: I passed from the familiar room, I who from love had passed away, Like the remembrance of a guest That tarrieth but a day.. 29 June 1858. TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW I ALL the world is out in leaf, Half the world in flower, Earth has waited weeks and weeks For this special hour: All the world is making love: To frog among the rushes: Wake, O south wind sweet with spice, Wake the rose to blushes. My lily feet are soiled with mud, up. I see the far-off city grand, Life breaks forth to right and left Your eyes look earthward, mine look 2 I wish I were dead, my foe, In the pleasant April days 29 June 1858. THE CONVENT THRESHOLD Beyond the hills a watered land, Up and down leaping, to and fro, THERE'S blood between us, love, my Most glad, most full, made strong love, with wines, There's father's blood, there's Blooming as peaches pearled with brother's blood; And blood's a bar I cannot pass. dew, Their golden windy hair afloat, go. You linger, yet the time is short: Flee for your life, gird up your strength To flee; the shadows stretched at length How should I rest in Paradise, Show that day wanes, that night For I have heard the sound thereof. How long must stretch these years Angels, Archangels he outstripped, I turn from you my cheeks and Still Give me light,' he shrieked ; |