Had been invented, in the world's young prime, 490 Of Earth having assumed its form, then grown 495 Out of the mountains, from the living stone, The ivy and the wild-vine interknit 500 The volumes of their many-twining stems; Parasite flowers illume with dewy gems The lampless halls, and when they fade, the sky Peeps through their winter-woof of tracery With Moon-light patches, or star atoms keen, 505 Or fragments of the day's intense serene; Working mosaic on their Parian floors. And, day and night, aloof, from the high towers And terraces, the Earth and Ocean seem To sleep in one another's arms, and dream 510 Of waves, flowers, clouds, woods, rocks, and all that we This isle and house are mine, and I have vowed Thee to be lady of the solitude. 515 And I have fitted up some chambers there 520 Out of its grave, and make the present last In thoughts and joys which sleep, but cannot die, Our simple life wants little, and true taste 525 Between the quick bats in their twilight dance; Round the evening tower, and the young stars glance 530 The spotted deer bask in the fresh moon-light 535 Their withered hours, like leaves, on our decay, The living soul of this Elysian isle, Conscious, inseparable, one. Meanwhile 540 We two will rise, and sit, and walk together, Under the roof of blue Ionian weather, And wander in the meadows, or ascend The mossy mountains, where the blue heavens bend With lightest winds, to touch their paramour; 545 Or linger, where the pebble-paven shore, Under the quick, faint kisses of the sea 550 Through which the awakened day can never peep; 555 A veil for our seclusion, close as Night's, Where secure sleep may kill thine innocent lights; 560 Our breath shall intermix, our bosoms bound, 565 And our veins beat together; and our lips, With other eloquence than words, eclipse The soul that burns between them; and the wells Which boil under our being's inmost cells, The fountains of our deepest life, shall be 570 As mountain-springs under the morning Sun. 575 Till like two meteors of expanding flame, Those spheres instinct with it become the same Touch, mingle, are transfigured; ever still Burning, yet ever inconsumable : In one another's substance finding food, 580 585 The winged words on which my soul would pierce Are chains of lead around its flight of fire.— Weak Verses, go, kneel at your Sovereign's feet, And say: "We are the masters of thy slave; "What wouldest thou with us and ours and thine?" Then call your sisters from Oblivion's cave, All singing loud: "Love's very pain is sweet, "Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.” ye And bid them love each other and be bless'd : ΤΟ MUSIC, when soft voices die, Odours, when sweet violets sicken, 590 595 600 5 SONG. I. RARELY, rarely, comest thou, Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a weary night and day II. How shall ever one like me Spirit false thou hast forgot All but those who need thee not. III. As a lizard with the shade Of a trembling leaf, Thou with sorrow art dismayed; Even the sighs of grief Reproach thee, that thou art not near, And reproach thou wilt not hear. IV. Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure, Thou wilt never come for pity, Thou wilt come for pleasure. Pity then will cut away Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay. |