argent shield High in the sapphire heavens hung the moon, Did no strange dream or evil memory make Each tremulous petal of its blossoms shake? p. 88Ah no! to this bright flower a thousand years Seemed but the lingering of a summer’s day, It never knew the tide of cankering fears Which turn a boy’s gold hair to withered grey, The dread desire of death it never knew, Or how all folk that they were born must rue. p. 88 For we to death with pipe and dancing go, Nor would we pass the ivory gate again, As some sad river wearied of its flow Through the dull plains, the haunts of common men, Leaps lover-like into the terrible sea! And counts it gain to die so gloriously. We mar our lordly strength in barren strife With the world’s legions led by clamorous care, It never feels decay but gathers life From the pure sunlight and the supreme air, We live beneath Time’s wasting sovereignty, It is the child of all eternity. p. 89SERENADE p. 89 (FOR MUSIC) FOR MUSIC The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Ægean sea, And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee. Come down! the purple sail is spread, The watchman sleeps within the town, O leave thy lily-flowered bed, O Lady mine come down, come down! The She will not come, I know her well, Of lover’s vows she hath no care, And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair. True love is but a woman’s toy, They never know the lover’s pain, And I who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain. O noble pilot, tell me true, Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there? p. 90Good sailor come and tell me now Is that my Lady’s lily hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow, Or is it but the silver sand? p. 90 No! no! ’tis not the tangled dew, ’Tis not the silver-fretted sand, It is my own dear Lady true With golden hair and lily hand! O noble pilot, steer for Troy, Good sailor, ply the labouring oar, This is the Queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore! The waning sky
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