Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

To the last point of vision, and beyond,

Mount, daring warbler! — that loveprompted strain -'Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond

Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:

Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing

All independent of the leafy spring.

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;

A privacy of glorious light is thine, Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood

Of harmony, with instinct more divine;

Type of the wise, who soar, but never

roam

True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

WE ARE SEVEN.

A SIMPLE child

That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death?

[blocks in formation]

66

[ocr errors]

Then did the little maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may
be seen."
The little maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my
mother's door,
And they are side by side.

My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit

I sit and sing to them,

And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

The first that died was little Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

So in the churchyard she was laid;
And all the summer dry,
Together round her grave we play'd,
My brother John and I.

And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food,
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and
smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A traveller betwixt life and death;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
The reason firm, the temperate
will,

And when the ground was white with Endurance, foresight, strength, and

snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.

"How many are you then," said I, "If they two are in heaven?" The little maiden did reply, "O master! we are seven!

"But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in Heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away: for still
The little maid would have her will,
And said," Nay, we are seven!"

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT.

SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight;

A lovely apparition, sent

To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful
dawn;

A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay,

I saw her upon nearer view,
A spirit, yet a woman too!
Her household motions light and

free,

skill;

[blocks in formation]

SCORN NOT THE SONNET.

SCORN not the sonnet. Critic, you have frowned,

Mindless of its just honors: with this

key

Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody

Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound;

A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; [grief; Camoëns soothed with it an exile's The sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned

His visionary brow; a glow-worm lamp,

It cheered mild Spenser, called from fairy-land

To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp [hand Fell round the path of Milton, in his The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew

Soul-animating strains - alas, too few!

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

WESTMINSTER bridge.

EARTH has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

wear

A sight so touching in its majesty: This city now doth like a garment [bare, The beauty of the morning; silent, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

TO THE CUCKOO.

O BLITHE new-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice:

O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird,
Or but a wandering voice?

While I am lying on the grass,
Thy loud note smites my ear!
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off and near!

I hear thee babbling to the vale
Of sunshine and of flowers;
And unto me thou bringest a tale
Of visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the spring!

Even yet thou art to me

No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery.

The same whom in my school-boy days

I listened to; that cry

Which made me look a thousand ways

In bush and tree and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen!

And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.

O blessed bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be

An unsubstantial, fairy place;
That is fit home for thee!

[blocks in formation]

SIR THOMAS WYATT.

DESCRIPTION OF THE ONE HE WOULD LOVE.

A FACE that should content me wondrous well,

Should not be fair, but lovely to behold;

With gladsome cheer, all grief for to expel;

With sober looks so would I that it should

Speak without words, such words as none can tell;

The tress also should be of crispèd gold.

With wit, and these, might chance I might be tied,

And knit again the knot that should not slide.

A LOVER'S PRAYER.

DISDAIN me not without desert,

Nor leave me not so suddenly; Since well ye wot that in my heart I mean ye not but honestly.

Refuse me not without cause why, Nor think me not to be unjust;

Since that by lot of fantasy,

[blocks in formation]

I trust some time my harm may be my health,

This careful knot needs knit I Since every woe is joined with some

must.

wealth.

[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »