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To forms of time and apprehensive tune,
Interpretation throve: the bee's fanfare,
“O Earth, fair lordly Blossom, soft a-shine
Come I, a poet, hereward haply blown,
And hoist thy stamen's spear-point high
Prithee, abuse me not,
Prithee, refuse me not,
Yield, yield the heartsome honey love to me
Hid in thy nectary!"
And as I sank into a dimmer dream
The pleading bee's song-burthen sole did seem :
TAMPA, FLORIDA, 1877.
THE HARLEQUIN OF DREAMS.
SWIFT, through some trap mine eyes have never found,
Then Space and Time, then Language, Mete and Bound,
Man's reason in the road, change faces, peep Betwixt the legs and mock the daily round. Yet thou canst more than mock: sometimes my tears At midnight break through bounden lids—a sign Thou hast a heart: and oft thy little leaven Of dream-taught wisdom works me bettered years. In one night witch, saint, trickster, fool divine, I think thou'rt Jester at the Court of Heaven!
OFT seems the Time a market-town
Their needs, as wares; one thus, one so:
"OPINION, let me alone: I am not thine. Prim Creed, with categoric point, forbear
To feature me my Lord by rule and line. Thou canst not measure Mistress Nature's hair,
Not one sweet inch : nay, if thy sight is sharp, Would'st count the strings upon an angel's harp? Forbear, forbear.
"Oh let me love my Lord more fathom deep Than there is line to sound with: let me love
My fellow not as men that mandates keep :
That let me love by heart, by heart, because
"The tears I weep by day and bitter night, Opinion! for thy sole salt vintage fall.
—As morn by morn I rise with fresh delight, Time through my casement cheerily doth call Nature is new,' 'tis birthday every day, Come feast with me, let no man say me nay, Whate'er befall.'
"So fare I forth to feast: I sit beside Some brother bright but, ere good-morrow's passed, Burly Opinion wedging in hath cried 'Thou shalt not sit by us, to break thy fast,
Save to our Rubric thou subscribe and swear-
"Then, hard a-hungered for my brother's grace
'Nay, not with me, save thou subscribe and swear Religion hath black eyes and raven hair: Nought else is true.'
"Debarred of banquets that my heart could make With every man on every day of life,
I homeward turn, my fires of pain to slake In deep endearments of a worshipped wife.
'I love thee well, dear Love,' quoth she, and yet Would that thy creed with mine completely met, As one, not two.'
“Assassin! Thief! Opinion, 'tis thy work.
Thou hand'st sweet Socrates his hemlock sour;
"Deliverer Christ; thou rack'st the souls of men ;
Indifferent cruel, thou dost blow the blaze
-Thou base-born Accident of time and place-
Bastard, that claimest with a cunning face
"I would thou left'st me free, to live with love, And faith, that through the love of love doth find
My Lord's dear presence in the stars above, The clods below, the flesh without, the mind Within, the bread, the tear, the smile. Opinion, damned Intriguer, gray with guile, Let me alone."