And man and woman; and what still is dear
Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither.

The soft sky smiles, the low wind whispers near : 'Tis Adonais calls! Oh, hasten thither!

No more let life divide what death can join together.

51. That light whose smile kindles the universe,

That beauty in which all things work and move, That benediction which the eclipsing curse

Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which, through the web of being blindly wove By man, and beast, and earth, and air, and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.

55. The breath whose might I have invoked in song
Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven
Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng
Whose sails were never to the tempest given.
The massy earth and spheréd skies are riven !
I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar !

Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of heaven,
The soul of Adonais, like a star,

Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1821.

1. "

DIRGE FOR THE YEAR.

OR

RPHAN Hours, the Year is dead! Come and sigh, come and weep!" 'Merry Hours, smile instead,

For the Year is but asleep :

See, it smiles as it is sleeping,

Mocking your untimely weeping."

2. "As an earthquake rocks a corse
In its coffin in the clay,
So white Winter, that rough nurse,
Rocks the dead-cold Year to-day;
Solemn Hours! wail aloud
For your Mother in her shroud."

3.

"As the wild air stirs and sways
The tree-swung cradle of a child,
So the breath of these rude Days
Rocks the Year. Be calm and mild,
Trembling Hours; she will arise
With new love within her eyes.

4. "January grey is here,

Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier;

March with grief doth howl and rave;
And April weeps-but O, ye Hours!
Follow with May's fairest flowers."

1st January 1821,

1.

S

TO NIGHT.

WIFTLY walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!

Out of the misty eastern cave

Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thon wovest dreams of joy and fear
Which make thee terrible and dear,
Swift be thy flight!

2. Wrap thy form in a mantle grey,
Star-inwrought,

Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out.
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land
Touching all with thine opiate wand-
Come, long-sought!

3. When I arose and saw the dawn,

I sighed for thee;

When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,

And the weary Day turned to her rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.

4. Thy brother Death came, and cried,
"Would'st thou me?"

Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
"Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me ?"-And I replied,
66 No, not thee.

5. Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon-

Sleep will come when thou art fled..
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night-
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!

MY

FROM THE ARABIC

AN IMITATION.

Y faint spirit was sitting in the light
Of thy looks, my love;

It panted for thee like the hind at noon

For the brooks, my love.

Thy barb, whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's fight,
Bore thee far from me;

My heart, for my weak feet were weary soon,
Did companion thee.

Ah! fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed,
Or the death they bear,

The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove
With the wings of care;

In the battle, in the darkness, in the need,
Shall mine cling to thee,

Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love,
It may bring to thee.

2. How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free,
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false thou hast forgot

All but those who need thee not.

3. As a lizard with the shade

Of a trembling leaf,

Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief

Reproach thee that thou art not near,

And reproach thou wilt not hear.