But if Pluto does it again, It shall sing out loud his shame. What hast caught then? what hast caught? Nothing but a poet's thought Which so light did fall and fix Where the Furies made their hay A great fly of Beelzebub's, The bee of hearts, which mortals name HOW MANY TIMES? How many times do I love thee? Dear! Of a new-fallen year, Whose white and sable hours appear How many times do I love, again? Of evening rain Unraveled from the trembling main SEA SONG. To sea! to sea! The calm is o'er : The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort, And unseen mermaids' pearly song Fling broad the sail! dip deep the oar! To sea! to sea! our wide-wing'd bark RICHARD HENGIST HORNE. 1803 GENIUS. Far out at sea,-the sun was high, Far out at sea. The little wanderer, who had lost Far out at sea. Above, there gleam'd the boundless sky; Beneath, the boundless ocean sheen; Between them danced the butterfly, The spirit-life of this vast scene,— Far out at sea, The tiny soul then soar'd away, Seeking the clouds on fragile wings, Lured by the brighter, purer ray Which hope's ecstatic morning brings,— Far out at sea. Away he sped with shimmering glee, He dies, unlike his mates, I ween, Far out at sea. THE LAUREL-SEED. Marmora findit. I. A despot gazed on sun-set clouds, Year upon year, all night and day, They toil'd, they died—and were replaced ; At length a marble fabric rose, With cloud-like domes and turrets graced. No anguish of those herds of slaves E'er shook one dome or wall asunder, Nor wars of other mighty Kings, Nor lustrous javelins of the thunder. II. One sunny morn a lonely bird Pass'd o'er, and dropt a laurel-seed; The plant sprang up amidst the walls Whose chinks were full of moss and weed. The laurel tree grew large and strong, It split the marble walls of Wrong, And blossom'd o'er the Despot's crown. And in its boughs a nightingale Sings to those world-forgotten graves ; And o'er its head a skylark's voice Consoles the spirits of the slaves. SOLITUDE AND THE LILY. THE LILY. I bend above the moving stream, Escapes me on this liquid glass. SOLITUDE. The changeful clouds that float or poise on high Thy life-dream is thy fleeting loveliness; While my caves sigh o'er human littleness. THE LILY. Ah, Solitude! Of marble Silence fit abode,— I do prefer my fading face, My loss of loveliness and grace, With cloud-dreams ever in my view; Also the hope that other eyes May share my rapture in the skies And, if illusion, feel it true. THE PLOUGH. Above yon sombre swell of land Thou seest the dawn's grave orange hue, With one pale streak like yellow sand, And over that a vein of blue. The air is cold above the woods; Over the broad hill creeps a beam, Like hope that gilds a good man's brow; And now ascends the nostril-steam Of stalwart horses come to plough. Ye rigid Ploughmen! bear in mind On me, on me DIRGE. Time and Change can heap no more! The painful past with blighting grief Hath left my heart a wither'd leaf : Earth's barbed woes Poised on the breath of Fate's dull roar ! Ye move me not, nor breed one fear; I wait your coming, and can bear : |