And, even when she turn'd, the curse Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford, Or kill'd in falling from his horse. O what to her shall be the end? And what to me remains of good? To her, perpetual maidenhood, And unto me, no second friend. VII. DARK house, by which once more I stand Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day. VIII. A HAPPY lover who has come To look on her that loves him well, Who lights and rings the gateway bell And learns her gone and far from home, He saddens, all the magic light Dies off at once from bower and hall, And all the place is dark, and all The chambers emptied of delight; So find I every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, For all is dark where thou art not. Yet as that other, wandering there So seems it in my deep regret, O my forsaken heart, with thee And this poor flower of poesy Which little cared for fades not yet. But since it pleased a vanish'd eye That if it can it there may bloom, Or dying there at least may die. IX. FAIR ship, that from the Italian shore, With my lost Arthur's loved remains, Spread thy full wings, and waft him o'er. So draw him home to those that mourn Ruffle thy mirror'd mast, and lead All night no ruder air perplex Thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright As our pure love, thro' early light Shall glimmer on the dewy decks. Sphere all your lights around, above; Sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow; Sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now, My friend, the brother of my love; |