Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

That gleams i' the Indian air-have you And the rare stars rush through them not heard

dim and fast :

When a man marries, dies, or turns All this is beautiful in every land.-
But what see you beside ?-a shabby

Hindoo,

His best friends hear no more of him?— but you

Will see him, and will like him too, I hope,

With the milk-white Snowdonian Ante

lope

stand

Of Hackney coaches-a brick house or wall

Fencing some lonely court, white with the scrawl

Of our unhappy politics;—or worse— Matched with this cameleopard - his A wretched woman reeling by, whose

[blocks in formation]

Makes such a wound, the knife is lost Mixed with the watchman's, partner of

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Whether the moon, into her chamber Rude, but made sweet by distance

[blocks in formation]

Leaves midnight to the golden stars, Which cannot be the Nightingale, and

or wan

Climbs with diminished beams the azure

steep;

yet

I know none else that sings so sweet as it

Or whether clouds sail o'er the inverse At this late hour;- and then all is

deep,

Piloted by the many-wandering blast,

still

Now Italy or London, which you will!

Next winter you must pass with me; We'll make our friendly philosophic I'll have revel My house by that time turned into a Outlast the leafless time; till buds and flowers

grave

care,

Of dead despondence and low-thoughted Warn the obscure inevitable hours, Sweet meeting by sad parting to renew;— "To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new."

And all the dreams which our tormentors
are;

Oh! that Hunt, Hogg, Peacock, and
Smith were there,

With every thing belonging to them
fair!-

We will have books, Spanish, Italian,

Greek;

THE WITCH OF ATLAS
TO MARY

And ask one week to make another (ON HER OBJECTING TO THE FOLLOW

week

As like his father, as I'm unlike mine,
Which is not his fault, as you may divine.
Though we eat little flesh and drink no
wine,

Yet let's be merry: we'll have tea and
toast;

Custards for supper, and an endless host
Of syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies,
And other such lady-like luxuries,—
Feasting on which we will philosophise!
And we'll have fires out of the Grand
Duke's wood,

To thaw the six weeks' winter in our
blood.

And then we'll talk ;-what shall we talk about?

Oh! there are themes enough for many a bout

Of thought-entangled descant;—as to

nerves

With cones and parallelograms and

curves

I've sworn to strangle them if once they dare

To bother me when you are with me there.

ING POEM, UPON THE SCORE OF ITS
CONTAINING NO HUMAN INTEREST)

I

How, my dear Mary, are you criticbitten,

(For vipers kill, though dead,) by some review,

That you condemn these verses I have written,

Because they tell no story, false or

true!

What, though no mice are caught by a young kitten,

May it not leap and play as grown cats do,

Till its claws come? Prithee, for this one time,

Content thee with a visionary rhyme.

What hand would crush the silkenwinged fly,

The youngest of inconstant April's

minions,

Because it cannot climb the purest sky, Where the swan sings, amid the sun's dominions?

And they shall never more sip laudanum,
From Helicon or Himeros1;-well, Not thine. Thou knowest 'tis its doom

come,

And in despite of God and of the devil,

1*Is, from which the river Himera was named, is, with some slight shade of difference, a synonym of Love.

[blocks in formation]

III

To thy fair feet a winged Vision came, Whose date should have been longer than a day,

And o'er thy head did beat its wings for fame,

And in thy sight its fading plumes display;

The watery bow burned in the evening

flame,

VI

If you strip Peter, you will see a fellow,
Scorched by Hell's hyperequatorial
climate

Into a kind of a sulphureous yellow :
A lean mark, hardly fit to fling a

rhyme at ;

In shape a Scaramouch, in hue Othello. If you unveil my Witch, no priest nor primate

But the shower fell, the swift sun Can shrive you of that sin,-if sin there

went his way—

[blocks in formation]

Has hung upon his wiry limbs a dress

[blocks in formation]

So fair a creature, as she lay enfolden In the warm shadow of her loveliness ;He kissed her with his beams, and made all golden

The chamber of gray rock in which she lay

Like King Lear's "looped and windowed She, in that dream of joy, dissolved

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

'Tis said, she first was changed into a And first the spotted cameleopard came, And then the wise and fearless elephant ;

vapour,

And then into a cloud, such clouds as flit,

Like splendour-winged moths about a taper,

Round the red west when the sun dies in it:

And then into a meteor, such as caper On hill-tops when the moon is in a fit:

Then the sly serpent, in the golden flame

Of his own volumes intervolved ;—all gaunt

And sanguine beasts her gentle looks made tame.

They drank before her at her sacred fount;

Then, into one of those mysterious stars And every beast of beating heart grew Which hide themselves between the

Earth and Mars.

IV

bold, Such gentleness and power even to be hold.

VII

Ten times the Mother of the Months had | The brinded lioness led forth her young,

bent

Her bow beside the folding-star, and bidden

With that bright sign the billows to indent

The sea-deserted sand-like children chidden,

At her command they ever came and

went

Since in that cave a dewy splendour hidden

Took shape and motion: with the living form

Of this embodied Power, the cave grew

warm.

V

A lovely lady garmented in light

From her own beauty-deep her

eyes, as are

Two openings of unfathomable night

Seen through a Temple's cloven roof -her hair

That she might teach them how they should forego

Their inborn thirst of death; the pard unstrung

His sinews at her feet, and sought to know

With looks whose motions spoke without a tongue

How he might be as gentle as the

doe.

The magic circle of her voice and eyes All savage natures did imparadise.

VIII

And old Silenus, shaking a green stick

Of lilies, and the wood-gods in a crew Came, blithe, as in the olive copses thick

Cicada are, drunk with the noonday dew:

And Dryope and Faunus followed quick, Teasing the God to sing them something new ;

Dark-the dim brain whirls dizzy with Till in this cave they found the lady lone,

delight,

Picturing her form; her soft smiles

shone afar,

Sitting upon a seat of emerald stone.

IX

And her low voice was heard like love, And universal Pan, 'tis said, was there,

and drew

All living things towards this wonder new.

And though none saw him,-through

the adamant

Of the deep mountains, through the Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade:

[blocks in formation]

And every shepherdess of Ocean's Long lines of light, such as the dawn

flocks,

Who drives her white waves over the

green sea,

may kindle

The clouds and waves and mountains with; and she

And Ocean with the brine on his gray As many star-beams, ere their lamps

locks,

And quaint Priapus with his company,

All came, much wondering how the enwombed rocks

could dwindle

In the belated moon, wound skilfully; And with these threads a subtle veil she

Wove

Could have brought forth so beautiful A shadow for the splendour of her love.

[blocks in formation]

And the rude kings of pastoral Gara- Which had the power all spirits of com

mant

Their spirits shook within them, as a

flame

Stirred by the air under a cavern

gaunt:

Pigmies, and Polyphemes, by many a

name,

pelling,

Folded in cells of crystal silence there; Such as we hear in youth, and think the

feeling

Will never die—yet ere we are aware, The feeling and the sound are fled and

gone,

Centaurs and Satyrs, and such shapes And the regret they leave remains alone,

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »