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Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,
With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm;
Till the war-drum throbb’d no longer, and the battle-flags were furl'd
In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.

There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe,
And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law.

So I triumph'd ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me dry,
Left me with the palsied heart, and left me with the jaundiced eye;
Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint:
Science moves; but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point:
Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion creeping nigher,
Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire.
Yet I doubt not thro’ the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns.
What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys,
Tho' the deep heart of existence beat for ever like a boy's?
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore,
And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and he bears a laden breast,
Full of sad experience, moving toward the stillness of his rest.
Hark, my merry comrades call me, sounding on the bugle-horn,
They to whom my foolish passion were a target for their scorn:
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string?
I am shamed thro' all my nature to have loved so slight a thing.
Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain –
Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain :

Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine,
Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine-
Here at least, where nature sickens, nothing. Ah, for some retreat
Deep in yonder shining Orient, where my life began to beat;
Where in wild Mahratta-battle fell my father evil-starr'd;.
I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward.

Or to burst all links of babit -- there to wander far away,
On from island unto island at the gateways of the day.

Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies,
Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise.

Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag,
Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag;

Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree
Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea.

There methinks would be enjoyment more than in this march of mind,
In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts that shake mankind.

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,
Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun;

Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks,
Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books —

Fool, again the dream, the fancy! but I know my words are wild,
But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child.

I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains,
Like a beast with lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains !

Mated with a squalid savage - what to me were sun or clime?
I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time -

I that rather held it better men should perish one by one,
Than that earth should stand at gaze like Joshua's moon in Ajalon!
Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range,
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Thro’ the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day:
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
Mother-Age (for mine I knew not) help me as when life begun :
Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the lightnings, weigh the Sun.
O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not set.
Ancient founts of inspiration well thro’all my fancy yet.

Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall!
Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall.

Comes a vapour from the margin, blackening over heath and holt,
Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt.
Let it fall on Locksley IIall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow;
For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and I go.


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;
I hung with grooms and porters on the

bridge, To watch the three tall spires, and there

I shaped
The city's ancient legend into this:--

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

said, But

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 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
Between his knees, half-drain’d; and

The wrinkled steward at his task,

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 glimpsing over these, just seen,
High up, the topmost palace spire.

When will the hundred summers die,

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.'




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.

The silk star-broider'd coverlid

Unto her limbs itself doth mould
Languidly ever; and, amid
Her full black ringlets downward

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


on his

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.

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