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Nature had rased their love, which could not be
But by dissevering their nativity.
And so they grew together like two flowers
Upon one stem, which the same beams and showers
Lull or awaken in their purple prime,
Which the same hand will gather, the same clime
Shake with decay. This fair day smiles to see
All those who love—and who e'er loved like thee,
Fiordispina? Scarcely Cosimo,
Within whose bosom and whose brain now glow
The ardours of a vision which obscure
The very idol of its portraiture.
He faints, dissolved into a sea of love.
But thou art as a planet sphered above;
But thou art Love itself—ruling the motion
Of his subjected spirit: such emotion
Must end in sin or sorrow, if sweet May
Had not brought iorth this morn, your wedding-day.
"Lie there; sleep awhile in your own dew,
■ ■ • • •
A table near of polished porphyry.
which did reprove
Fiordispina and her nurse are now
Upon the steps of the high portico;
step by step and stair by stair,'
"How slow and painfully you seem to walk,
"And well it may,
And leave to grosser mortals?
And say, sweet lamb, would you not learn the sweet
TO. THE MOON.
Art thou pale for weariness
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
Thou chosen sister of the spirit,
Unrisen splendour of the brightest sun,
Now beckoning thee out of thy misty throne
Could thaw the clouds which wage an obscure war
With thy young brightness!
A Portal as of shadowy adamant
Stands yawning on the highway of the life
Around it rages an unceasing strife
And many pass it by with careless tread,
Not knowing that a shadowy . . .
Wait peacefully for their companion new.
I Went into the deserts of dim sleep—
That world which, like an unknown wilderness, Bounds this with its recesses wide and deep.
The viewless and invisible Consequence
And . . hovers o'er thy guilty sleep,
I DREAMED that Milton's spirit rose, and took
From life's green tree his Uranian lute;
His face was like a snake's—wrinkled and loose
Methought I was a billow in the crowd
Of common men, that stream without a shore,
Where mighty shapes—pyramid, dome, and tower-
And many there were hurt by that strong boy;
His name, they said, was Pleasure.
In earth and air and sea:
Love, Hope, Desire and Fear;
The spirit dwelling there
Wild bird for that weak nest.
Then Hope approached, she who can borrow,
For poor To-day, from rich To-morrow;
And Fear withdrew, as night when day
Descends upon the orient ray.
And after long and vain endurance
The poor heart woke to her assurance.
—At one birth these four were bor n
With the world's forgotten morn,
And from Pleasure still they hold
All it circles, as of old.
When, as summer lures the swallow,
Pleasure lures the heart to follow
(O weak heart of little wit!)