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Pass the happy news,
Blush it thro’ the West;
Till the red man dance
By his red cedar tree,
And the red man's babe
Leap, beyond the sea.
Blush from West to East,
Blush from East to West,
Till the West is East,
Blush it thro' the West.
Rosy is the West,
Rosy is the South, Roses are her cheeks,
And a rose her mouth.
I HAVE led her home, my love, my only friend.
None like her, none.
Just now the dry-tongued laurels' pattering talk Seem'd her light foot along the garden walk,
And shook my heart to think she comes once more ;
There is none like her, none.
Nor will be when our summers have deceased.
O, art thou sighing for Lebanon
Sighing for Lebanon,
And haunted by the starry head
Forefathers of the thornless garden, there Shadowing the snow-limb'd Eve from whom she
Here will I lie, while these long branches sway,
As when it seem'd far better to be born
To labour and the mattock-harden'd hand,
But now shine on, and what care I,
Who in this stormy gulf have found a pearl
The countercharm of space and hollow sky,
Would die ; for sullen-seeming Death may give
More life to Love than is or ever was
In our low world, where yet ’tis sweet to live.
Let no one ask me how it came to pass ;
It seems that I am happy, that to me
A livelier emerald twinkles in the grass,
Not die ; but live a life of truest breath,