And dreaming, some of Autumn past,
And some of Spring approaching fast,
And some of April buds and showers,
And some of songs in July bowers,
And all of love; and so this tree,
O that such our death may be !-
Died in sleep, and felt no pain,

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And pattering rain, and breathing dew,
And airs of evening; and it knew
That seldom-heard mysterious sound,
Which, driven on its diurnal round,
As it floats through boundless day,
Our world enkindles on its way-
All this it knows, but will not tell
To those who cannot question well

The spirit that inhabits it;

It talks according to the wit

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THE keen stars were twinkling,

And the fair moon was rising among them,

Dear Jane!

The guitar was tinkling,

But the notes were not sweet till you sung them 5

Again.

II.

As the moon's soft splendour

O'er the faint cold starlight of heaven

Is thrown,

So your voice most tender

To the strings without soul had then given

Its own.

III.

The stars will awaken,

Though the moon sleep a full hour later,

To-night;

No leaf will be shaken

Whilst the dews of your melody scatter

Delight.

LINES WRITTEN IN THE BAY OF LERICI.

297

IV.

Though the sound overpowers,

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing

A tone

Of some world far from ours,

Where music and moonlight and feeling

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Haunt the echoes of the hill ;

And feeling ever O too much!-
The soft vibration of her touch,
As if her gentle hand, even now,
Lightly trembled on my brow;

And thus, although she absent were,
Memory gave me all of her

That even Fancy dares to claim:

Her presence had made weak and tame

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20

I sat and saw the vessels glide

Over the ocean bright and wide,

Like spirit-winged chariots sent
O'er some serenest element

For ministrations strange and far;
As if to some Elysian star
Sailed for drink to medicine

Such sweet and bitter pain as mine.
And the wind that winged their flight
From the land came fresh and light,
And the scent of wingèd flowers,

And the coolness of the hours

Of dew, and sweet warmth left by day,
Were scattered o'er the twinkling bay.
And the fisher with his lamp

And spear about the low rocks damp
Crept, and struck the fish which came
To worship the delusive flame.

Too happy they, whose pleasure sought
Extinguishes all sense and thought
Of the regret that pleasure leaves,
Destroying life alone, not peace!

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Like lightning that flashed and died,
Like a snow-flake upon the river,
Like a sunbeam upon the tide,

Which the dark shadows hide.

III.

That moment from time was singled
As the first of a life of pain,

The cup of its joy was mingled

- Delusion too sweet though vain! Too sweet to be mine again.

IV.

Sweet lips, could my heart have hidden
That its life was crushed by you,

Ye would not have then forbidden
The death which a heart so true
Sought in your briny dew.

V.

Methinks too little cost

For a moment so found, so lost!

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