HOU art fair, and few are fairer ocean; They are robes that fit the wearer Those soft limbs of thine, whose motion. Ever falls and shifts and glances As the life within them dances. II. Thy deep eyes, a double Planet, Gaze the wisest into madness With soft clear fire, -the winds that fan it Make thy gentle soul their pillow. III. If whatever face thou paintest In those eyes grows pale with pleasure, If the fainting soul is faintest When it hears thy harp's wild measure, Wonder not that when thou speakest Of the weak my heart is weakest. IV. As dew beneath the wind of morning, As the birds at thunder's warning, To William Shelley (With what truth I may say Roma! Roma! Roma! I. Y lost William, thou in whom Here its ashes find a tomb, But beneath this pyramid Thou art not-if a thing divine Is thy mother's grief and mine. II. Where art thou, my gentle child? With its life intense and mild, The love of living leaves and weeds, Let me think that through low seeds Fragment: Reminiscence and Desire S it that in some brighter sphere Or do we see the Future pass Fragment: "Follow to the Deep Wood's Weeds" OLLOW to the deep wood's weeds, Follow to the wild briar dingle, Where we seek to intermingle, And the violet tells her tale Fragment: Rain and Wind HE fitful alternations of the rain, When the chill wind, languid as and there with pain Of its own heavy moisture, here Drives through the gray and beamless atmosphere. |