"And let me think that it may beguile "To say,— What matters at the end? "Where is the use of the lip's red charm, "Unless we turn, as the soul knows how, But long ere Robbia's cornice, fine (With, leaning out of a bright blue space, Eying ever with earnest eye, And quick-turned neck at its breathless stretch, Some one who ever passes by) The Duke sighed like the simplest wretch In Florence: "So, my dream escapes! Will its record stay?" And he bade them fetch Some subtle fashioner of shapes "Can the soul, the will, die out of a man Ere his body find the grave that gapes? "John of Douay shall work my plan, "In the very square I cross so oft! Shall touch the eyes to a purpose soft "While the mouth and the brow are brave in bronze Admire and say, 'When he was alive, How he would take his pleasure once!' "And it shall go hard but I contrive To listen meanwhile, and laugh in my tomb At indolence which aspires to strive." So! while these wait the trump of doom, Still, I suppose, they sit and ponder Surely they see not God, I know, The soldier-saints who, row on row, Burn upward each to his point of bliss- He had cut his way through the world to this I hear your reproach-" But delay was best, As a virtue golden through and through. And prove its worth at a moment's view. Must a game be played for the sake of pelf? The true has no value beyond the sham. Stake your counter as boldly every whit; Do your best, whether winning or losing it, If you choose to play-is my principle! The counter our lovers staked was lost Was the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, COMRADES, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis early morn― Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn. "Tis the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call, Dreary gleams about the moorland, flying over Locksley Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts, And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time; When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed; When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed; When I dipped into the future far as human eye could see Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be. In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the Spring a livelier Iris changes on the burnished dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung. And I said, "My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me; Trust me, cousin, all the current of my being sets to thee." On her pallid cheek and forehead came a colour and a light, As I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night. And she turned-her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes— Saying, "I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong;" Saying, "Dost thou love me, cousin?" weeping, "I have loved thee long." |