Till the rapture was shut in itself, and the earth sank to rest. Anon at the dawn, all that trouble had withered from earth Not so much, but I saw it die out in the day's tender birth; In the gathered intensity brought to the gray of the hills ; In the shuddering forests' new awe; in the sudden wind thrills; In the startled wild beasts that bore off, each with eye sidling still Tho' averted, in wonder and dread; and the birds stiff and chill That rose heavily, as I approached them, made stupid with awe. E'en the serpent that slid away silent, he felt the new Law. The same stared in the white humid faces upturned by the flowers; The same worked in the heart of the cedar, and moved the vine-bowers. And the little brooks witnessing murmured, persistent and low, With their obstinate, all but hushed voices- E'en so! it is so. "DE GUSTIBUS-" 1. YOUR ghost will walk, you lover of trees, (If loves remain) In an English lane, By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies. The happier they! Draw yourself up from the light of the moon, And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the beanflowers' boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June! 2. What I love best in all the world, Is, a castle, precipice-encurled, In a gash of the wind-grieved Apennine. (If I get my head from out the mouth To the water's edge. For, what expands Goes with his Bourbon arm in a sling. -She hopes they have not caught the felons. Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her, Calais.) Open my heart and you will see Graved inside of it, "Italy." Such lovers old are I and she; So it always was, so it still shall be ! WOMEN AND ROSES. 1. I DREAM of a red-rose tree. 2. Round and round, like a dance of snow Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens, They circle their rose on my rose tree. 3. Dear rose, thy term is reached, Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached: 4. Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb, You, great shapes of the antique time! How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you, u? Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast! Drink once and die! - In vain, the same fashion, b. Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed; Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed. 6. Deep as drops from a statue's plinth Fold me fast where the cincture slips, Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure! Girdle me once! But no- in their old measure They circle their rose on my rose tree. 7. Dear rose without a thorn, |