Puslapio vaizdai
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Queen of things! I dare not die
In Being's deeps past ear and eye;
Lest there I find the same deceiver,
And be the sport of Fate forever.
Dread Power, but dear! if God thou be,
Unmake me quite, or give thyself to me!

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Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending,
It will reward,
They shall return
More than they were,

And ever ascending.

Leave all for love;

Yet, hear me, yet,

One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,-
Keep thee to-day,

To-morrow, forever,
Free as an Arab

Of thy beloved.

Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,

First vague shadow of surmise
Flits across her bosom young,
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free;

Nor thou detain her vesture's hem,

Nor the palest rose she flung

From her summer diadem.

Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,

Though her parting dims the day,

Stealing grace from all alive;

Heartily know,

When half-gods go,

The gods arrive.

TO ELLEN

AT THE SOUTH.

THE green grass is bowing,
The morning wind is in it;
"T is a tune worth thy knowing,
Though it change every minute.

"T is a tune of the Spring;
Every year plays it over
To the robin on the wing,
And to the pausing lover.

O'er ten thousand, thousand acres,
Goes light the nimble zephyr ;
The Flowers-tiny sect of Shakers
Worship him ever.

Hark to the winning sound!

They summon thee, dearest,

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Saying, 'We have dressed for thee the ground, Nor yet thou appearest.

"O hasten ;' 't is our time, Ere yet the red Summer

Scorch our delicate prime,

Loved of bee, the tawny hummer.

'O pride of thy race!

Sad, in sooth, it were to ours, If our brief tribe miss thy face, We poor New England flowers.

'Fairest, choose the fairest members

Of our lithe society;

June's glories and September's

Show our love and piety.

'Thou shalt command us all,

April's cowslip, summer's clover, To the gentian in the fall,

Blue-eyed pet of blue-eyed lover.

'O come, then, quickly come!

We are budding, we are blowing; And the wind that we perfume

Sings a tune that's worth the knowing.'

TO EVA.

O FAIR and stately maid, whose eyes
Were kindled in the upper skies

At the same torch that lighted mine;
For so I must interpret still
Thy sweet dominion o'er my will,
A sympathy divine.

Ah! let me blameless gaze upon
Features that seem at heart my own;
Nor fear those watchful sentinels,
Who charm the more their glance forbids,
Chaste-glowing, underneath their lids,

With fire that draws while it repels.

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THINE EYES STILL SHINED.

THE AMULET.

YOUR picture smiles as first it smiled;
The ring you gave is still the same;
Your letter tells, O changing child!
No tidings since it came.

Give me an amulet

That keeps intelligence with you, —
Red when you love, and rosier red,

And when you love not, pale and blue.

Alas! that neither bonds nor vows

Can certify possession ;

Torments me still the fear that love
Died in its last expression.

THINE EYES STILL SHINED.

THINE eyes still shined for me, though far
I lonely roved the land or sea:
As I behold yon evening star,
Which yet beholds not me.

This morn I climbed the misty hill
And roamed the pastures through;
How danced thy form before my path
Amidst the deep-eyed dew!

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