TO A LADY WITH A GUITAR. ARIEL to Miranda :--Take When you die, the silent Moon, Of life from your nativity: Many changes have been run Your course of love, and Ariel still Has tracked your steps and served your will. Now in humbler, happier lot, This is all remembered not; And now, alas! the poor sprite is From you, he only dares to crave, The artist who this idol wrought, From which, beneath Heaven's fairest star, The artist wrought this loved Guitar, And taught it justly to reply, To all who question skilfully, In language gentle as thine own; Sweet oracles of woods and dens, And summer winds in sylvan cells; For it had learnt all harmonies Of the plains and of the skies, Of the forests and the mountains, And the many-voiced fountains; The clearest echoes of the hills, The softest notes of falling rills, The melodies of birds and bees, The murmuring of summer seas, And pattering rain, and breathing dew, And airs of evening; and it knew That seldom-heard mysterious sound, Which, driven on its diurnal round, As it floats through boundless day, Our world enkindles on its wayAll this it knows, but will not tell To those who cannot question well The spirit that inhabits it; It talks according to the wit Of its companions; and no more Is heard than has been felt before, By those who tempt it to betray These secrets of an elder day. But, sweetly as its answers will Flatter hands of perfect skill, It keeps its highest, holiest tone For our beloved friend alone. He came like a dream in the dawn of life, Make answer the while my heart shall break! But my heart has a music which Echo's lips, Though tender and true, yet can answer not, And the shadow that moves in the soul's eclipse Can return not the kiss by his now forgot; Sweet lips! he who hath On my desolate path Cast the darkness of absence, worse than death! The Enchantress makes her spell; she is answered by a Spirit. SPIRIT. Within the silent centre of the earth Of this dim spot, which mortals call the world; Sheets of immeasurable fire, and veins Of gold, and stone, and adamantine iron. And as a veil in which I walk through Heaven I have wrought mountains, seas, waves, and clouds, A good Spirit, who watches over the Pirate's fate, leads, in a mysterious manner, the lady of his love to the En chanted Isle. She is accompanied by a youth, who loves her, but whose passion she returns only with a sisterly affection. The ensuing scene takes place between them on their arrival at the Isle. INDIAN. And thou lovest not? If so Young as thou art, thou canst afford to weep. LADY. Oh! would that I could claim exemption Sleeps like a melody of early days. But as you said LADY. He was so awful, yet So beautiful in mystery and terror, INDIAN. Such a one Is he who was the winter of my peace. LADY, If I be sure I am not dreaming now, MISCELLANEOUS. ΤΟ THE INVITATION. BEST and brightest, come away, The brightest hour of unborn spring, And smiled upon the silent sea, Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downsTo the silent wilderness Where the soul need not repress Its music, lest it should not find To take what this sweet hour yields ;- With smiles, nor follow where I go ; Radiant Sister of the Day, Awake! arise! and come away! To the wild woods and the plains, To the pools where winter rains Image all their roof of leaves, Where the pine its garland weaves Of sapless green, and ivy dun, Round stems that never kiss the sun, Where the lawns and pastures be And the sandhills of the sea, Where the melting hoar-frost wets The daisy-star that never sets, And wind-flowers and violets, Which yet join not scent to hue, Crown the pale year weak and new ; When the night is left behind In the deep east, dim and blind, And the blue noon is over us, And the multitudinous Billows murmur at our feet, Where the earth and ocean meet, And all things seem only one, In the universal sun. THE RECOLLECTION. Now the last day of many days, For now the Earth has changed its face, 1. We wandered to the Pine Forest That skirts the Ocean's foam, The lightest wind was in its nest, The tempest in its home. ΙΠ. How calm it was !-the silence there The breath of peace we drew To the soft flower beneath our feet, A spirit interfused around A thrilling silent life, To momentary peace it bound Our mortal nature's strife ;And still I felt the centre of The magic circle there, Was one fair form that filled with love The lifeless atmosphere. 307 There lay the glade and neighbouring lawn And through the dark green wood The white sun twinkling like the dawn Out of a speckled cloud. Sweet views which in our world above Can never well be seen, Were imaged by the water's love And all was interfused beneath An atmosphere without a breath, Like one beloved the scene had lent To the dark water's breast, Its every leaf and lineament With more than truth exprest, Until an envious wind crept by, Like an unwelcome thought, Which from the mind's too faithful eye Blots one dear image out. Though thou art ever fair and kind, The forests ever green, Less oft is peace in S's mind, February 2, 1822. When hearts have once mingled, O, Love! who bewailest The frailty of all things here, Why choose you the frailest For your cradle, your home, and your bier? Its passions will rock thee, As the storms rock the ravens on high: When leaves fall and cold winds come. |