126 Away! We know that tears are vain, Or make one mourner weep the less? I WHEN the lamp is shatter'd II As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, No The heart's echoes render song when the spirit is mute :No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruin'd cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. III When hearts have once mingled To endure what it once possess'd. 127 O Love! who bewailest Why choose you the frailest For your cradle, your home, and your bier ? IV Its passions will rock thee As the storms rock the ravens on high; Like the sun from a wintry sky. From thy nest every rafter When leaves fall and cold winds come. Shelley. My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish'd air, By love are driven away : And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have. His face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold; Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is love's all-worship'd tomb, Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding sheet; When I my grave have made, Let winds and tempests beat: Blake. 128 THE night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies, When love is done. 129 Bourdillon. AWAY! The moor is dark beneath the moon, Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even: Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, And profoundest midnight shroud the sérene lights of heaven. Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away! Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood: Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay, Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude. Away, away ! to thy sad and silent home; Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth; Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come, And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth. sérene]*. The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head: The blooms of dewy spring shall gleam beneath thy feet: But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead, Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace may meet. The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose, For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep : Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows ; Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its appointed sleep. Thou in the grave shalt rest—yet till the phantoms flee Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile, Thy remembrance, and repentance, and deep musings are not free From the music of two voices and the light of one sweet smile. Shelley. 130* Lycidas In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately drown'd in his Passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637. And by occasion foretels the ruine of our corrupted clergy then in their height. YET Once more, O ye Laurels, and once more I come to pluck your Berries harsh and crude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour ΙΟ my destined Urn, 20 And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, 30 Toward Heav'n's descent had sloped his westering wheel. Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel But O the heavy change, now thou art gone, Thee, Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves rhyme] verse. sacred well] Helicon. |