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His waters from the purple hill
To hear the dewy echoes calling
The Lotos blooms below the flowery peak:
The Lotos blows by every winding creek:
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust
We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Rolled to starboard, rolled to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled
Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled
Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world;
Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands,
Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands.
But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful
Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong,
Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell,
O rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.
A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN.
I READ, before my eyelids dropt their shade,
Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath Preluded those melodious bursts, that fill
The spacious times of great Elizabeth
With sounds that echo still.
And, for a while, the knowledge of his art
Brimful of those wild tales,
Charged both mine
I saw, wherever light illumineth, Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand The downward slope to death.
eyes with tears. In every land
Those far-renowned brides of ancient song
Peopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, And I heard sounds of insult, shame and wrong, And trumpets blown for wars;
And clattering flints battered with clanging hoofs:
Corpses across the threshold; heroes tall
Upon the tortoise creeping to the wall;
And high shrine-doors burst through with heated blasts
Squadrons and squares of men in brazen plates,
So shape chased shape as swift as, when to land
I started once, or seemed to start, in pain,
As when a great thought strikes along the brain,