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Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle
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 :
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
And sweet is the colour of cove and
And sweet shall your welcome be:
hither, 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
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.
THE DESERTED HOUSE.
LIFE and Thought have gone away
Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they!
All within is dark as night:
Close the door, the shutters close,
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 shall fall again to ground.
Come away for Life and Thought
But in a city glorious
A great and distant city-have bought A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with us!
THE DYING SWAN.
THE plain was grassy, wild and bare, Wide, wild, and open to the air, Which had built up everywhere
An under-roof of doleful gray.
And loudly did lament.
And took the reed-tops as it went.
Some blue peaks in the distance rose, And white against the cold-white sky,
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 still
The tangled water-courses slept, Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow.
The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear
And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd
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
The balm-cricket carols clear
LOVE AND DEATH.
WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light
Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise, And all about him roll'd 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 beneath,
So in the light of great eternity
Life eminent creates the shade of death; The shadow passeth when the tree shall fall,
But I shall reign for ever over all.'