Leading the infantine moon, And that one star, which to her Half the crimson light she brings 'Mid remembered agonies, The frail bark of this lone being), Sits beside the helm again. 1 Other flowering isles must be To some calm and blooming cove, 325 330 335 340 345 And the light and smell divine 350 Of all flowers that breathe and shine. We may live so happy there That the spirits of the air, To our healing paradise But their rage would be subdued By that clime divine and calm, 355 And the winds whose wings rain balm. 360 On the uplifted soul, and leaves Under which the bright sea heaves; While each breathless interval In their whisperings musical They, not it, would change; and soon 370 Every sprite beneath the moon Would repent its envy vain, STANZAS WRITTEN IN DEJECTION, NEAR NAPLES THE sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Like many a voice of one delight, 5 I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown; ..I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, heart now share in How sweet! did any Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor that content surpassing wealth The sage in meditation found, 10 15 my emotion. And walked with inward glory crowned,Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround; 20 25 Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, 30 And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea 35 Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan; 40 They might lament - for I am one Whom men love not- and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, 44 Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet. December, 1818. LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, And a spirit in my feet 5 O! press it close to thine again, 1819. LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY THE fountains mingle with the river, With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; 5 10 And the moonbeams kiss the sea: 15 If thou kiss not me? 1819. SONG- TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND MEN of England, wherefore plough Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save, 5 |