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'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose
holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us
down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we
knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and
tho We are not now that strength which in
old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we
are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong
in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
But thy strong Hours indignant work'd
their wills, And beat me down and marr'd and
wasted me, And tho' they could not end me, left me
maim'd To dwell in presence of immortal youth, Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. Can thy love, Thy beauty, make amends, tho' even
now, Close over us, the silver star, thy guide, Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill
with tears To hear me ? Let me go: take back thy
gift: Why should a man desire in any way To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet
for all ?
In days far-off, on that dark earth, be
true ? * The Gods themselves cannot recall
Like that strange song I heard Apollo
sing, While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.
Ay me! ay me! with what another
heart In days far-off, and with what other eyes I used to watch — if I be he that watch'dThe lucid outline forming round thee; The dim curls kindle into sunny rings; Changed with thy mystic change, and
felt my blood Glow with the glow that slowly crimson'd
all Thy presence and thy portals, while I
lay, Mouth, forehead, eyelids, growing dewy. With kisses balmier than half-opening
buds Of April, and could hear the lips that
kiss'd Whispering I knew not what of wild and
Yet hold me not for ever in thine East: How can my nature longer mix with
thine ? Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled
feet Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when
the steam Floats up from those dim fields about the
homes Of happy men that have the power to
die, And grassy barrows of the happier
dead. Release me, and restore me to the
ground; Thou seëst all things, thou wilt see my
grave: Thou wilt renew thy beauty morn by
morn; I earth in earth forget these empty courts, And thee returning on thy silver wheels.
COMRADES, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis early morn:
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade,
Here about the beach I wander'd, nourishing a youth sublime
In the Spring a fuller crinison comes upon the robin's breast;
In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove;
Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung.
And I said, “My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me,
And she turn'd- her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy, mine no more!
Falser than all fancy fathoms, falser than all songs have sung,
Yet it shall be: thou shalt lower to his level day by day,
What is this? his eyes are heavy: think not they are glazed with wine. Go to him: it is thy duty: kiss him: take his hand in thine.
It may be my lord is weary, that his brain is overwrought :
Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth !
Cursed be the sickly forms that err from honest Nature's rule !
Well — 'tis well that I should bluster !-- Hadst thou less unworthy proved Would to God -- for I had loved thee more than ever wise was loved.
Am I mad, that I should cherish that which bears but bitter fruit?
Never, tho' my mortal summers to such length of years should come
Where is comfort? in division of the records of the mind?
I remember one that perish'd : sweetly did she speak and move :
Can I think of her as dead, and love her for the love she bore?
Comfort? comfort scorn'd of devils ! this is truth the poet sings,
Prug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof,
Baby lips will laugh me down: my latest rival brings thee rest.
O, the child too clothes the father with a dearness not his due.
0, I see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty part, With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart. “They were dangerous guides the feelings — she herself was not exempt Truly, she herself had suffer'd' - Perish in thy self-contempt!
Overlive it - lower yet — be happy! wherefore should I care?
What is that which I should turn to, lighting upon days like these?
I had been content to perish, falling on the foeman's ground,
But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels,
Can I but relive in sadness? I will turn that earlier page.
Make me feel the wild pulsation that I felt before the strife,
Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield,
And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn,
And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then,
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new :
Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd a ghastly dew