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Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,
There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe,
So I triumph'd ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me dry,
Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine,
Or to burst all links of babit -- there to wander far away,
Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies,
Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag,
Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree
There methinks would be enjoyment more than in this march of mind,
There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathing space I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.
Iron-jointed, supple-sinew'd, they shall dive, and they shall run,
Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks,
Fool, again the dream, the fancy! but I know my words are wild,
I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains,
Mated with a squalid savage - what to me were sun or clime?
I that rather held it better men should perish one by one,
Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall!
Comes a vapour from the margin, blackening over heath and holt,
Made war upon each other for an hour, Till pity won. She sent a herald forth, And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet,
all The hard condition; but that she would
loose The people: therefore, as they loved her
well, From then till noon no foot should pa
the street, No eye look down, she passing; but that
all Should keep within, door shut, and win
dow barr'd. Then fled she to her inmost bower,
and there Unclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt, The griin Earl's gift; but ever at a breath She linger'd, looking like a
I waited for the train at Coventry;
bridge, To watch the three tall spires, and there
Not only we, the latest seed of Time, New men, that in the flying of a wheel Cry down the past, not only we, that prate Of rights and wrongs, have loved the
people well, And loathed to see them overtax'd; but
she Did more, and underwent, and overcame, The woman of a thousand summers back, Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruled In Coventry: for when he laid a tax Upon his town, and all the mothers
brought Their children, clamouring, 'If we pay,
we starve !' She sought her lord, and found him,
where he strode About the hall, among his dogs, alone, His beard a foot before him, and his hair A yard behind. She told him of their
tears, And pray'd him, 'If they pay this tax,
they starve.' Whereat he stared, replying, half-amazed, 'You would not let your little finger ache For such as these?'. - But I would die,'
said she. He laugh’d, and swore by Peter and by
Paul: Then fillip'd at the diamond in her ear; "Oh ay, ay, ay, you talk !'- Alas!' she
prove me what it is I would not do.' And from a heart as rough as Esau's
hand, He answer'd, ' Ride you naked thro' the
town, And I repeal it;' and nodding, as in He parted, with great strides among his
Half-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her
head, And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her
knee; Unclad herself in haste; adown the stair Stole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam,
slid From pillar unto pillar, until she reach'd The gateway; there she found her pal
frey trapt In purple blazon'd with armorial gold. Then she rode forth, clothed on with
chastity: The deep air listen'd round her as she
rode, And all the low wind hardly breathed for
fear. The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the
spout Had cunning eyes to see: the barking Made her cheek flame: her palfrey's foot
fall shot Light horrors thro' her pulses: the blind
walls Were full of chinks and holes; and over
head Fantastic gables, crowding, stared: but
she Not less thro' all bore up, till, last, she
dogs. So left alone, the passions of her mind, As winds from all the compass shift and
saw The white-flower'd elder-thicket from the
THE SLEEPING PALACE.
The varying year with blade and sheaf
Clothes and reclothes the happy plains. Here rests the sap within the leaf,
Here stays the blood along the veins. Faint shadows, vapours lightly curld, Faint murmurs from the meadows
come, Like hints and echoes of the world
To spirits folded in the womb.
Gleam thro' the Gothic archway in the
wall. Then she rode back, clothed on with
chastity : And one low churl, compact of thankless
earth, The fatal byword of all years to come, Boring a little auger-hole in fear, Peep'd - but his eyes, before they had
tveir will, Were shrivell'd into darkness in his
head, And dropt before him. So the Powers,
who wait On noble deeds, cancell'd a sense mis
used; And she, that knew not, pass'd: and all
at once, With twelve great shocks of sound, the
shameless noon Was clash'd and hammer'd from a hun.
dred towers, One after one: but even then she gain'd Her bower; whence reissuing, robed and
crown'd, To meet her lord, she took the tax
away And built herself an everlasting name.
Soft lustre bathes the range of urns
On every slanting terrace-lawn. The fountain to his place returns
Deep in the garden lake withdrawn. Here droops the banner on the tower,
On the hall-hearths the festal fires, The peacock in his laurel bower,
The parrot in his gilded wires.
Roof-haunting martins warm their eggs :
In these, in those the life is stay'd. The mantles from the golden pegs
Droop sleepily: no sound is made, Not even of a gnat that sings.
More like a picture seemeth all Than those old portraits of old kings,
That watch the sleepers from the wall.
O LADY FLORA, let me speak:
A pleasant hour has pass'd away While, dreaming on your damask cheek,
The dewy sister-eyelids lay. As by the lattice you reclined,
I went thro' many wayward moods To see you dreaming and, behind,
A summer crisp with shining woods. And I too dream'd, until at last
Across my fancy, brooding warm, The reflex of a legend past,
And loosely settled into form. And would you have the thought I had,
And see the vision that I saw, Then take the broidery-frame, and add
A crimson to the quaint Macaw, And I will tell it. Turn your face,
Nor look with that too-earnest eyeThe rhymes are dazzled from their place
And order'd words asunder fly.
Here sits the Butler with a flask
The maid-of-honour blooming fair; The page has caught her hand in his:
Her lips are sever'd as to speak: His own are pouted to a kiss :
The blush is tix'd upon her cheek.
Till all the hundred summers pass,
The beams, that thro' the Oriel shine, Make prisms in every carven glass,
And beaker brimm's with noble wine Each baron at the banquet sleeps,
Grave faces gather'd in a ring.
His state the king reposing keeps. He must have been a jovial king.
She sleeps : on either hand upswells
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells
A perfect form in perfect rest.
All round a hedge upshoots, and shows
At distance like a little wood; Thorns, ivies, woodbine, mistletoes,
And grapes with bunches red as blood; All creeping plants, a wall of green
Close-matted, bur and brake and briar,
And thought and time be born again, And newer knowledge, drawing nigh,
Bring truth that sways the soul of men? Here all things in their place remain,
As all were order'd, ages since. Come, Care and Pleasure, Hope and Pain,
And bring the fated fairy Prince.
ALL precious things, discover'd late,
To those that seek them issue forth; For love in sequel works with fate,
And draws the veil from hidden worth. He travels far from other skies
His mantle glitters on the rocks -A fairy Prince, with joyful eyes,
And lighter-footed than the fox.
The bodies and the bones of those
That strove in other days to pass, Are wither'd in the thorny close,
Or scatter'd blanching on the grass. He gazes on the silent dead :
“They perish'd in their daring deeds.' This proverb flashes thro' his head,
•The many fail: the one succeeds.'
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.
YEAR after year unto her feet,
She lying on her couch alone, Across the purple coverlet,
The maiden's jet-black hair has grown, On either side her tranced form
Forth streaming from a braid of pearl : The slumbrous light is rich and warm, And moves not on the rounded curl.
Unto her limbs itself doth mould
roll'a, Glows forth each softly-shadow'd arm
With bracelets of the diamond bright: Her constant beauty doth inform
Stillness with love, and day with light.
He comes, scarce knowing what he
seeks: He breaks the hedge: he enters
there : The colour flies into his cheeks:
He trusts to light on something fair ; For all his life the charm did talk
About his path, and hover near With words of promise in his walk,
And whisper'd voices at his ear.
More close and close his footsteps
wind: The Magic Music in his heart Beats quick and quicker, till he find
The quiet chamber far apart. His spirit flutters like a lark, He stoops
to kiss her knee. • Love, if thy tresses be so dark, How dark those hidden eyes must
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard
In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are noi stirr'd
That lie upon her charmed heart.