Its clear droppings, lone and single, Thine is music such as yields The green, bright grass of childhood bring to me, And the bright blue skies above! The sunshine and the merriment, The joy, that, like a clear breeze, went Peace sits within thine eyes, With white hands crossed in joyful rest, 66 She sits and sings, With folded wings And white arms crost, The beauty which the summer time The forest oracles sublime That filled thy soul with joyous dread, Flowing to thee, thou knewest not whence, In thine eyes to-day is seen, Fresh as it hath ever been; Promptings of Nature, beckonings sweet, Thy voice is like a fountain, When the moon behind the mountain Ever sparkling, We know not if 'tis dark or bright; But, when the great moon hath rolled round, And, sudden-slow, its solemn power Grows from behind its black, clearedged bound, No spot of dark the fountain keepeth, But, swift as opening eyelids leapeth Into a waving silver flower. 28 REMEMBERED MUSIC. 1840. REMEMBERED MUSIC. A FRAGMENT. THICK-rushing, like an ocean vast Or in low murmurs they began, Rising and rising momently, As o'er a harp Æolian A fitful breeze, until they ran And then, like minute-drops of rain They lingering dropped and dropped again, To listen when the next would be. SONG. TO M. L. A LILY thou wast when I saw thee first, That hourly grew more pure and white, By the wind and sun; The rain and the dew for thee took care; A lily thou wast when I saw thee first, How full of wonder was the change, When, ripe with all sweetness, thy full bloom burst! How did the tears to my glad eyes start, Reached its blossoming hour, And I saw the warm deeps of thy golden heart! Glad death may pluck thee, but never before Hath dropped from thy heart into mine, Of fragrance and light, Which fall upon souls that are lone and astray, To plant fruitful hopes of the flower of day. ALLEGRA. I WOULD more natures were like thine, That we who drink forget to pine, And can but dream of bliss in store. Thou canst not see a shade in life; Thou wast some foundling whom the Hours Hath ruled thy nature from its birth, As if thy natal stars were flowers That shook their seeds round thee on earth. And thou, to lull thine infant.rest, Wast cradled like an Indian child; Thine every fancy seems to borrow |