THE AGE OF GOLD.
The clouds, that tower in storm, that beat Arterial thunder in their veins; The wildflowers lifting, shyly sweet, Their perfect faces from the plains,-- All high, all lowly things of Earth For no vague end have had their birth.
Low strips of mist, that mesh the moon Above the foaming waterfall; And mountains that G.o.d"s hand hath hewn, And forests where the great winds call,-- Within the grasp of such as see Are parts of a conspiracy;
To seize the soul with beauty; hold The heart with love, and so fulfill Within ourselves the Age of Gold, That never died, and never will,-- So long as one true nature feels The wonders that the world reveals.
THE LOVE OF LOVES.
I have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth--than rose or violet That Mayday winds and sunbeams bring.
Of all we know, past or to come, That beauty holds within its net, She is the high compendium: And yet--
I have not touched her robe, and still She is more dear than lyric words And music; or than strains that fill The throbbing throats of forest birds.
Of all we mean by poetry, That rules the soul and charms the will, She is the deep epitome: And still--
She is my world; ah, pity me!
A dream that flies whom I pursue; Whom all pursue, whoe"er they be, Who toil for art and dare and do.
The shadow-love for whom they sigh, The far ideal affinity, For whom they live and gladly die-- Ah, me!
THREE THINGS.
There are three things of Earth That help us more Than those of heavenly birth That all implore-- Than Love or Faith or Hope, For which we strive and grope.
The first one is Desire,-- Who takes our hand And fills our hearts with fire None may withstand;-- Through whom we"re lifted far Above both moon and star.
The second one is Dream,-- Who leads our feet By an immortal gleam To visions sweet;-- Through whom our forms put on Dim attributes of dawn.
The last of these is Toil,-- Who maketh true, Within the world"s turmoil The other two;-- Through whom we may behold Ourselves with kings enrolled.
IMMORTELLES.
I.
As some warm moment of repose In one rich rose Sums all the summer"s lovely bloom And pure perfume-- So did her soul epitomize All hopes that make life wise, Who lies before us now with lidded eyes, Faith"s amaranth of truth Crowning her youth.
II.
As some melodious note or strain May so contain All of sweet music in one chord, Or lyric word-- So did her loving heart suggest All dreams that make life blest, Who lies before us now with pulseless breast, Love"s asphodel of duty Crowning her beauty.
A LULLABY.
I.
In her wimple of wind and her slippers of sleep The twilight comes like a little goose-girl, Herding her owls with many "tu-whoos,"
Her little brown owls in the woodland deep, Where dimly she walks in her whispering shoes, And gown of glimmering pearl.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep; This is the road to Rockaby Town.
Rockaby, lullaby, where dreams are cheap; Here you can buy any dream for a crown.
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep; The cradle you lie in is soft and is deep, The wagon that takes you to Rockaby Town.
Now you go up, sweet, now you go down, Rockaby, lullaby, now you go down.
II.
And after the twilight comes midnight, who wears A mantle of purple so old, so old!
Who stables the lily-white moon, it is said, In a wonderful chamber with violet stairs, Up which you can see her come, silent of tread, On hoofs of pale silver and gold.
Dream, dream, little one, dream; This is the way to Lullaby Land.
Lullaby, rockaby, where, white as cream, Sugar-plum bowers drop sweets in your hand.
Dream, dream, little one, dream; The cradle you lie in is tight at each seam, The boat that goes sailing to Lullaby Land.
Over the sea, sweet, over the sand, Lullaby, rockaby, over the sand.
III.
The twilight and midnight are lovers, you know, And each to the other is true, is true!
And there on the moon through the heavens they ride, With the little brown owls all huddled arow, Through meadows of heaven where, every side, Blossom the stars and the dew.
Rest, rest, little one, rest; Rockaby Town is in Lullaby Isle.
Rockaby, lullaby, set like a nest Deep in the heart of a song and a smile.
Rest, rest, little one, rest; The cradle you lie in is warm as my breast, The white bird that bears you to Lullaby Isle.
Out of the East, sweet, into the West, Rockaby, lullaby, into the West.
DUM VIVIMUS.