Love hath his meter too, to trace Those bounds which never yet were given,— To measure that which mocks at space, Is deep as death, and high as heaven. Love hath his treasure hoards, to pay Helen Selina Sheridan [1807-1867] Before my life has found What some have found so sweet; Then let come what come may, What matter if I go mad, I shall have had my day. Let the sweet heavens endure, That there is one to love me! I Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892] 1 AMATURUS SOMEWHERE beneath the sun, These quivering heart-strings prove it, Somewhere there must be one Made for this soul to move it; Some one that hides her sweetness From neighbors whom she slights, I Nor can attain completeness, Nor give her heart its rights; Some one whom I could court With no great change of manner, Still holding reason's fort, Though waving fancy's banner; A lady, not so queenly As to disdain my hand, Yet born to smile serenely Like those that rule the land; With soft hair simply folded, Deep-calm, when gales are brawling, Of things one may not know; Spirit and flesh to sunder; And stars sink to the sea. Forth, Love, and find this maid, Speak, Love, be not afraid, But plead as thou art bidden; 1 A Ballad of Dreamland And say, that he who taught thee I His yearning want and pain, Too dearly, dearly bought thee To part with thee in vain. 499 William Johnson-Cory [1823-1892] THE SURFACE AND THE DEPTHS LOVE took my life and thrilled it Played round my mind and filled it But to my heart he never came To touch it with his golden flame. Therefore it is that singing Nor heed the slow years bringing A harsher voice; Because the songs which he has sung Still leave the untouched singer young. But whom in fuller fashion The Master sways, For him, swift-winged with passion, Fleet the brief days. Betimes the enforced accents come, And leave him ever after dumb. Lewis Morris [1833-1907] A BALLAD OF DREAMLAND I HID my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun's way, hidden apart; In a softer bed then the soft white snow's is, Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? why should it start, When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred? What made sleep flutter his wings and part? Only the song of a secret bird. Lie still, I said, for the wind's wing closes, And mild leaves muffle the keen sun's dart; Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes, And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art. Does a thought in thee still as a thorn's wound smart? Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred? Only the song of a secret bird. The green land's name that a charm encloses, It never was sold in the merchant's mart. ' The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart, And sleep's are the tunes in its tree-tops heard; No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart, Only the song of a secret bird. ENVOI In the world of dreams I have chosen my part, To sleep for a season and hear no word Of true love's truth or of light love's art, Only the song of a secret bird. Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909] ENDYMION THE rising moon has hid the stars; With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, Had dropped her silver bow/ Endymion On such a tranquil night as this, When, sleeping in the grove, Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, It comes, the beautiful, the free, To seek the elected one. It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep Of him who slumbering lies. O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! Are fraught with fear and pain, No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds, as if with unseen wings, "Where hast thou stayed so long?" 501 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1807-1882] |