Night after night in my sorrow The stars stood over the sea, Till lo! I looked in the dusk And a star had come down to me.

VII

Plain as the glistering planets shine When winds have cleaned the skies, Her love appeared, appealed for mine, And wantoned in her eyes.

Clear as the shining tapers burned On Cytherea’s shrine, Those brimming, lustrous beauties turned, And called and conquered mine.

The beacon-lamp that Hero lit No fairer shone on sea, No plainlier summoned will and wit, Than hers encouraged me.

I thrilled to feel her influence near, I struck my flag at sight. Her starry silence smote my ear Like sudden drums at night.

I ran as, at the cannon’s roar, The troops the ramparts man— As in the holy house of yore The willing Eli ran.

Here, lady, lo! that servant stands You picked from passing men, And should you need nor heart nor hands He bows and goes again.

VIII

To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre Whose favour still I wear, The snow be in her kirtle, The rose be in her hair!

The hue of highland rivers Careering, full and cool, From sable on to golden, From rapid on to pool— The hue of heather-honey, The hue of honey-bees, Shall tinge her golden shoulder, Shall gild her tawny knees.

IX

Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams, Beauty awake from rest! Let Beauty awake For Beauty’s sake In the hour when the birds awake in the brake And the stars are bright in the west!

Let Beauty awake in the eve from the slumber of day, Awake in the crimson eve! In the day’s dusk end When the shades ascend, Let her wake to the kiss of a tender friend To render again and receive!

X

I know not how it is with you—  I love the first and last, The whole field of the present view, The whole flow of the past.

One tittle of the things that are, Nor you should change nor I— One pebble in our path—one 

 Prev. P 11/27 next