THE SISTERS. WE were two daughters of one race: The wind is blowing in turret and tree. She died she went to burning flame: O the Earl was fair to see! I made a feast; I bade him come ; I won his love, I brought him home. The wind is roaring in turret and tree. And after supper, on a bed, Upon my lap he laid his head : O the Earl was fair to see! I kiss'd his eyelids into rest : I rose up in the silent night: I made my dagger sharp and bright. I curl'd and comb'd his comely head, I wrapt his body in the sheet, And laid him at his mother's feet. O the Earl was fair to see! ΤΟ WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM. I SEND you here a sort of allegory, That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge, are three sisters And never can be sunder'd without tears. THE PALACE OF ART. I BUILT my soul a lordly pleasure-house, I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse, A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass, Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf And "while the world runs round and round," I said, "Reign thou apart, a quiet king, Still as, while Saturn whirls, his stedfast shade Sleeps on his luminous ring." To which my soul made answer readily: In this great mansion, that is built for me, Four courts I made, East, West and South and North, In each a squared lawn, wherefrom The golden gorge of dragons spouted forth And round the cool green courts there ran a row And round the roofs a gilded gallery That lent broad verge to distant lands, From those four jets four currents in one swell In misty folds, that floating as they fell Lit up a torrent-bow. I |