The law by which it prospers so: But sure that thought and word and deed Yes, yes, a tree which must ascend, No poison-gourd foredoomed to stoop! The draught to blossoming gladness fast, While sweet dews turn to the gourd's hurt, And bloat, and while they bloat it, blast, As from the first its lot was cast. For as I lie, smiled on, full fed By unexhausted power to bless, I gaze below on Hell's fierce bed, And those its waves of flame oppress, One altar-smoke, so pure!-to win Priest, doctor, hermit, monk grown white With prayer, the broken-hearted nun, The martyr, the wan acolyte, The incense-swinging child, undone God, whom I praise; how could I praise, Make out and reckon on, his ways, And bargain for his love, and stand, Paying a price, at his right hand? II.-MADHOUSE CELL. PORPHYRIA'S LOVER. THE rain set early in to-night, She shut the cold out and the storm, She put my arm about her waist, And made her smooth white shoulder bare, And all her yellow hair displaced, And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour, And give herself to me forever: For love of her, and all in vain ; Made my heart swell, and still it grew That moment she was mine, mine, fair, A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound I warily oped her lids; again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss: I propped her head up as before, Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorned at once is fled, And I, its love, am gained instead! Porphyria's love: she guessed not how Her darling one wish would be heard. And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirred, And yet God has not said a word! THROUGH THE METIDJA TO ABD-EL-KADR. As I ride, as I ride II. To our Chief and his Allied, Who dares chide my heart's pride Or are witnesses denied Through the desert waste and wide As I ride, as I ride? As I ride, as I ride, III. When an inner voice has cried, The sands slide, nor abide (As I ride, as I ride) O'er each visioned Homicide That came vaunting (has he lied?) To reside-where he died, As I ride, as I ride. As I ride, as I ride, IV. Ne'er has spur my swift horse plied, Yet his hide, streaked and pied, As I ride, as I ride, Shows where sweat has sprung and dried, -Zebra-footed, ostrich-thighed How has vied stride with stride As I ride, as I ride! |