Puslapio vaizdai
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Yet spake yon purple mountain,

Yet said yon ancient wood,

That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,

Leads all souls to the Good.

FORERUNNERS.

LONG I followed happy guides,

I could never reach their sides;
Their step is forth, and, ere the day,
Breaks up their leaguer, and away.
Keen my sense, my heart was young,
Right good-will my sinews strung,
But no speed of mine avails

To hunt upon their shining trails.

On and away, their hasting feet

Make the morning proud and sweet;

Flowers they strew, -I catch the scent;

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Or tone of silver instrument

Leaves on the wind melodious trace;

Yet I could never see their face.

On eastern hills I see their smokes,

Mixed with mist by distant lochs.

I met many travellers

Who the road had surely kept;

They saw not my fine revellers,

These had crossed them while they slept.

Some had heard their fair report,

In the country or the court.

Fleetest couriers alive

Never yet could once arrive,

As they went or they returned,

At the house where these sojourned. Sometimes their strong speed they slacken, Though they are not overtaken;

In sleep their jubilant troop is near,

I tuneful voices overhear;

It may be in wood or waste,

At unawares 'tis come and past.
Their near camp my spirit knows
By signs gracious as rainbows.
I thenceforward, and long after,
Listen for their harp-like laughter,
And carry in my heart, for days,
Peace that hallows rudest ways.

SURSUM CORDA.

SEEK not the spirit, if it hide

Inexorable to thy zeal:

Baby, do not whine and chide:

Art thou not also real?

Why shouldst thou stoop to poor excuse?

Turn on the accuser roundly; say,

'Here am I, here will I remain

Forever to myself soothfast;

Go thou, sweet Heaven, or at thy pleasure stay!' Already Heaven with thee its lot has cast,

For only it can absolutely deal.

ODE TO BEAUTY.

WHO gave thee, O Beauty,
The keys of this breast,-

Too credulous lover

Of blest and unblest?

Say, when in lapsed ages

Thee knew I of old?

Or what was the service

For which I was sold?

When first my eyes saw thee,
I found me thy thrall,

By magical drawings,
Sweet tyrant of all!
I drank at thy fountain
False waters of thirst;

Thou intimate stranger,
Thou latest and first!

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