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Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the

world Like one great garden show'd, And thro' the wreaths of floating dark

Rare sunrise flow'd.

And Freedom rear'd in that august sun

rise Her beautiful bold brow, When rites and forms before his burning

Melted like snow.

There was

no blood upon her maiden

robes Sunn'd by those orient skies; But round about the circles of the

Of her keen eyes

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear;

All the place is holy ground;
Hollow smile and frozen sneer

Come not here.
Holy water will I pour

Into every spicy flower
Of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around.
The flowers would faint at your cruel

In your eye there is death,
There is frost in your breath
Which would blight the plants.
Where you stand you cannot hear

From the groves within

The wild-bird's din. In the heart of the garden the merry bird

chants. It would fall to the ground if you came

In the middle leaps a fountain

Like sheet lightning,

Ever brightening With a low melodious thunder; All day and all night it is ever drawn From the brain of the purple moun

tain Which stands in the distance yonder: It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven

above, And it sings a song of undying love; And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and

fuil, You never would hear it; your ears are

so dull; So keep where you are: you are foul with

sin; It would shrink to the earth if you came

And in her raiment's hem was traced in

flame Wisdom, a name to shake All evil dreams of power

r- a sacred name. And when she spake,

Her words did gather thunder as they

ran, And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riving the spirit of man,

Making earth wonder,

So was their meaning to her words. No

sword Of wrath her right arm whirl’d, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his

She shook the world.


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Vex not thou the poet's mind

With thy shallow wit:
Vex not thou the poet's mind;

For thou canst not fathom it.
Clear and bright it should be ever,
Flowing like a crystal river;
Bright as light, and clear as wind.

Slow sail'd the weary mariners and

saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running

foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms

prest To little harps of gold; and while they Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle





Life and Thought have gone away

Side by side,

Leaving door and windows wide : Careless tenants they!


All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.


Close the door, the shutters close,

Or thro' the windows we shall see

The nakedness and vacancy Of the dark deserted house.


Come away: no more of mirth

Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth,

And sball fall again to ground.


Whither away, whither away, whither

away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field,

and the happy blossoming shore? Day and night to the billow the fountain

calls : Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill

swells High over the full-toned sea.: o hither, come hither and furl your

sails, Come hither to me and to me : Hither, come hither and frolic and play; Here it is only the mew that wails; We will sing to you all the day: Mariner, mariner, furl your sails, For here are the blissful downs and dales, And merrily, merrily carol the gales, And the spangle dances in bight and

bay, And the rainbow forms and flies on the

land Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the

sand; Hither, come hither and see; And the rainbow hangs on the poising

wave, And sweet is the colour of cove and

cave, And sweet shall your welcome be: O bither, come hither, and be our lords, For merry brides are we: We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak

sweet words: O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten With pleasure and love and jubilee : O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten When the sharp clear twang of the golden

chords Runs up the ridged sea. Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er? Whither away? listen and stay: mariner,

mariner, fly no more.

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Thee nor carketh care nor slander; Nothing but the small cold worm Fretteth thine enshrouded form.

Let them rave. Light and shadow ever wander O'er the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.


Thou wilt not turn upon thy bed;
Chaunteth not the brooding bee
Sweeter tones than calumny?

Let them rave.
Thou wilt never raise thine head
From the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

Shone out their crowning snows.

One willow over the river wept,
And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;
Above in the wind was the swallow,

Chasing itself at its own wild will,
And far thro' the marish green and


The tangled water-courses slept, Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow.

III. The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear; And floating about the under-sky, Prevailing in weakness, the coronach

stole Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear But anon' her awsul jubilant voice, With a music strange and manifold, Flow'd forth on a carol free and bold As when a mighty people rejoice With shawms, and with cymbals, and

harps of gold, And the tumult of their acclaim is rollid Thro' the open gates of the city afar, To the shepherd who watcheth the even

ing star. And the creeping mosses and clambering

weeds, And the willow-branches hoar and dank, And the wavy swell of the soughing

reeds, And the wave-worn horns of the echoing

bank, And the silvery marish-flowers that

throng The desolate creeks and pools among, Were flooded over with eddying song.


Crocodiles wept tears for thee;
The woodbine and eglatere
Drip sweeter dew's than traitor's tear.

Let them rave,
Rain makes music in the tree
O’er the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.


Round thee blow, self-pleached deep,
Bramble roses, faint and pale,
And long purples of the dale.

Let them rave.
These in every shower creep
Thro' the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.



The gold-eyed kingcups fine ;
The frail bluebell peereth over
Rare broidry of the purple clover.

Let them rave.
Kings have no such couch as thine,
As the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.



Now is done thy long day's work;
Fold thy palms across thy breast,
Fold thine arms, turn to thy rest.

Let them rave.
Shadows of the silver birk
Sweep the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

Wild words wander here and there : God's great gift of speech ahused Makes thy memory confused :

But let them rave.

The balm-cricket carols clear
In the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

In the yew-wood black as night,

Ere I rode into the fight,

While blissful tears blinded my sight
By star-shine and by moonlight,

I to thee my troth did plight,


LOVE AND DEATH. What time the mighty moon was gather

ing light Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise, And all about him rollid his lustrous eyes; When, turning round a cassia, full in view, Death, walking all alone beneath a yew, And talking to himself, first met his

sight: "You must begone,' said Death, these

walks are mine.' Love wept and spread his sheeny vans

for flight; Yet ere he parted said, “This hour is

thine: Thou art the shadow of life, and as the

tree Stands in the sun and shadows all be.

neath, So in the light of great eternity Lise eminent creates the shade of death; The shadow passeth when the tree shall

fall, But I shall reign for ever over all.'

She stood upon the castle wall,

Oriana: She watch'd my crest among them all,

She saw me fight, she heard me call,
When forth there stept a foeman tall,

Atween me and the castle wall,


The bitter arrow went aside,

Oriana :
The false, false arrow went aside,

Oriana :
The damned arrow glanced aside,
And pierced thy heart, my love, my


Oriana! Thy heart, my life, my love, my bride,

Oriana !

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O cursed hand! O cursed blow!

Oriana !
O happy thou that liest low,

All night the silence seems to flow
Beside me in my utter woe,

A weary, weary way I go,


I would be a merman bold, I would sit and sing the whole of the

day; I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of

power; But at night I would roam abroad and

play With the mermaids in and out of the

rocks, Dressing their hair with the white sea

fower; And holding them back by their flowing

locks I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kiss'd me

Laughingly, laughingly;
And then we would wander away, away
To the pale-green sea-groves straight

and high,
Chasing each other merrily.

When Norland winds pipe down the sea,

I walk, I dare not think of thee,

Thou liest beneath the greenwood tree,
I dare not die and come to thee,

I hear the roaring of the sea,


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CIRCUMSTANCE. Two children in two neighbour villages, Playing mad pranks along the heathy leas; Two strangers meeting at a festival; Two lovers whispered by an orchard

Low thunder and light in the magic


Neither moon nor star. We would call aloud in the dreamy

dells, Call to each other and whoop and cry

All night, merrily, merrily; They would pelt me with starry spangles

wall; Two lives bound fast in one with golden

ease; Two graves grass-green beside a gray

church-tower, Wash'd with still rains and daisy blos


and shells,

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