IX STAR Sirius and the Pole Star dwell afar Beyond the drawings each of other's strength: One blazes through the brief bright summer's length Lavishing life-heat from a flaming car; While one unchangeable upon a throne Broods o'er the frozen heart of earth alone, Content to reign the bright particular star Of some who wander or of some who groan. They own no drawings each of other's strength, Nor vibrate in a visible sympathy, Nor veer along their courses each toward each : Yet are their orbits pitch'd in harmony Of one dear heaven, across whose depth and length Mayhap they talk together without speech. AN ECHO FROM WILLOWWOOD "OH YE, ALL YE THAT WALK IN WILLOW WOOD" Two gaz'd into a pool, he gaz'd and she, Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I think, Pale and reluctant on the water's brink, Each tasted bitterness which both must drink, There on the brink of life's dividing sea. 80. TWIST ME A CROWN TWIST me a crown of wind-flowers; To hear the singers at their song, That voice rang out from the donjon tower, Non ti scordar di me, Non ti scordar di me! THE CHESS-BOARD My little love, do you remember, Checkmated by each other's eyes? Brave Pawns in valiant battle stand; The double Castles guard the wings; The Bishop, bent on distant things, Moves, sidling through the fight. Our fingers touch; our glances meet, And falter; falls your golden hair Against my cheek; your bosom sweet Is heaving. Down the field, your Queen Rides slow her soldiery all between, And checks me unaware. Ah me! the little battle's done, This, this at least - if this alone; (Ere we were grown so sadly wise), The taste of stronger food than such light fare. To feed on human flesh he did not dare, Till many a meaner meal had slowly given The young destroyer strength to vanquish even His restless rival in destruction, Man. Two weanling lambs first perish'd from his bite. The bleatings of their dam at break of day Drew to the spot where her dead lambkins lay The other beasts. They, understanding not, In wistful silence round that fatal spot Stood eyeing the dead lambs with looks forlorn. Adam, who was upon the march that morn, Missing his bodyguard, turn'd back to see What they were doing; and there also he Saw the two frozen lambkins lying dead, But understood not. At the last he said, "Since the lambs cannot move, methinks 't were best That I should carry them.” So on his breast He laid their little bodies, and again Set forward, follow'd o'er the frosty plain By his bewilder'd flocks. And in dismay They held their peace. That was a silent day. At night he laid the dead lambs on the grass. That night still colder than the other was, And when the morning broke there were |