I SHOT an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where ;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to
end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines,

Like a fair lady at her casement, shines

The evening star, the star of love and rest!

And then anon she doth herself divest Of all her radiant garments, and re'clines

Behind the sombre screen of yonder pines,

With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed.

O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! My morning and my evening star of love!

My best and gentlest lady! even thus,

As that fair planet in the sky above, Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night,

And from thy darkened window fades the light.

AUTUMN

THOU comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,

With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,

Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,

And stately oxen harnessed to thy

wain!

Thou standest, like imperial Charle

magne,

Upon thy bridge of gold; thy roya! hand

Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land,