Singing how down the vale of Mænalus It breaks in our bosom, and then we bleed. THE QUESTION. I. I DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, II. There grew pied wind-flowers and violets; Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxlips; tender bluebells, at whose birth III. And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, Green cow-bind and the moonlight-coloured may, And cherry-blossoms, and white cups whose wine Was the bright dew yet drained not by the Day ; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine, With its dark buds and leaves wandering astray; And flowers, azure, black, and streaked with gold, Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. IV. And nearer to the river's trembling edge There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white, VOL. II. P And starry river-buds among the sedge, And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen. V. Methought that of these visionary flowers I made a nosegay, bound in such a way THE SENSITIVE PLANT.-PART I. I. A SENSITIVE Plant in a garden grew; II. And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. III. But none ever trembled and panted with bliss In the garden, the field, or the wilderness, Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet want, As the companionless Sensitive Plant. IV. The snowdrop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet; And their breath was mixed with fresh odour sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. V. Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, VI. And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pale, VII. And the hyacinth, purple, and white, and blue, It was felt like an odour within the sense; VIII. And the rose, like a nymph to the bath addressed IX. And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, As a Mænad, its moonlight-coloured cup, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky; X. And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose The sweetest flower for scent that blows And all rare blossoms from every clime, XI. And on the stream whose inconstant bosom Was pranked under boughs of embowering blossom, XII. Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, And starry river-buds glimmered by ; And around them the soft stream did glide and dance With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. XIII. And the sinuous paths of lawn and of moss XIV. Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells And flowerets which, drooping as day drooped too, XV. And from this undefiled paradise The flowers (as an infant's awakening eyes XVI. When heaven's blithe winds had unfolded them Shone smiling to heaven, and every one XVII. For each one was interpenetrated With the light and the odour its neighbour shed, XVIII. But the Sensitive Plant, which could give small fruit Received more than all; it loved more than ever, XIX. For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower; It loves even like Love,-its deep heart is full; XX. The light winds which from unsustaining wings The beams which dart from many a star XXI. The plumed insects swift and free, Like golden boats on a sunny sea, XXII. ; The unseen clouds of the dew which lie XXIII. The quivering vapours of dim noontide, XXIV. Each and all like ministering angels were XXV. And, when evening descended from heaven above, XXVI. And the beasts and the birds and the insects were drowned In an ocean of dreams without a sound, Whose waves never mark though they ever impress The light sand which paves it, consciousness ;— XXVII. (Only overhead the sweet nightingale Ever sang more sweet as the day might fail, And snatches of its elysian chant Were mixed with the dreams of the Sensitive Plant); |