And sweet shall your welcome be : We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words: O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten Runs up the ridged sea. Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er ? Whither away? listen and stay: mariner, mariner, fly no more. THE DESERTED HOUSE. LIFE and Thought have gone away Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they! 11. All within is dark as night: III. Close the door, the shutters close, Or thro' the windows we shall see The nakedness and vacancy Of the dark deserted house. IV. Come away no more of mirth Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth, And shall fall again to ground. V. Come away for Life and Thought But in a city glorious A great and distant city-have bought A mansion incorruptible. Would they could have stayed with us! THE DYING SWAN. I. THE plain was grassy, wild and bare, Wide, wild, and open to the air, Which had built up everywhere An under-roof of doleful gray. And loudly did lament. And took the reed-tops as it went. II. Some blue peaks in the distance rose, And white against the cold-white sky, Shone out their crowning snows, One willow over the river wept, And shook the wave as the wind did sigh; Above in the wind was the swallow, Chasing itself at its own wild will, And far thro' the marish green and still The tangled water-courses slept, Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow. III The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear; And the tumult of their acclain is roll'd Thro' the open gates of the city afar, To the shepherd who watcheth the evening star. And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds, And the willow-branches hoar and dank, And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds, And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank, And the silvery marish-flowers that throng The desolate creeks and pools among, Were flooded over with eddying song. THE LADY OF SHALOTT. ON either side the river lie To many-tower'd Camelot; The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. The Lady of Shalott. Skimming down to Camelot : Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers ""Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." PART II. THERE she weaves by night and day To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; But in her web she still delights PART III. A BOW-SHOT from her bower-eaves, The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, As he rode down to Camelot All in the blue unclouded weather Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. PART IV. IN the stormy east-wind straining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot ; And down the river's dim expanse- Did she look to Camelot. The broad stream bore her far away, Lying, robed in snowy white She floated down to Camelot : And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, The Lady of Shalott. |