Part 10

TWO wedded lovers watched the rising moon, That with her strange mysterious beauty glowing, Over misty hills and waters flowing, Crowned the long twilight loveliness of June: And thus in me, and thus in me, they spake, The solemn secret of fist love did wake.

Above the hills the blushing orb arose; Her shape encircled by a radiant bower, In which the nightingale with charméd power Poured forth enchantment o’er the dark repose: And thus in me, and thus in me, they said, Earth’s mists did with the sweet new spirit wed.

Far up the sky with ever purer beam, Upon the throne of night the moon was seated, And down the valley glens the shades retreated, And silver light was on the open stream. And thus in me, and thus in me, they sighed, Aspiring Love has hallowed Passion’s tide.

SONG

I CANNOT lose thee for a day, But like a bird with restless wing My heart will find thee far away, And on thy bosom fall and sing, My nest is here, my rest is here;— And in the lull of wind and rain, Fresh voices make a sweet refrain, ‘His rest is there, his nest is there.’

With thee the wind and sky are fair, But parted, both are strange and dark; And treacherous the quiet air That holds me singing like a lark, O shield my love, strong arm above! Till in the hush of wind and rain, Fresh voices make a rich refrain, ‘The arm above will shield thy love.’

DAPHNE

MUSING on the fate of Daphne, Many feelings urged my breast, For the God so keen desiring, And the Nymph so deep distrest.

Never flashed thro’ sylvan valley Visions so divinely fair! He with early ardour glowing, She with rosy anguish rare.

Only still more sweet and lovely For those terrors on her brows, Those swift glances wild and brilliant, Those delicious panting vows.

Timidly the timid shoulders Shrinking from the fervid hand! Dark the tide of hair back-flowing From the blue-veined temples bland!

Lovely, too, divine Apollo In the speed of his pursuit; With his eye an azure lustre, And his voice a summer lute!

Looking like some burnished eagle Hovering o’er a fluttered bird; Not unseen of silver Naiad, And of wistful Dryad heard!

Many a morn the naked beauty Saw her bright reflection drown In the flowing smooth-faced river, While the god came sheening down.

Down from Pindus bright Peneus Tells its muse-melodious source; Sacred is its fountained birthplace, And the Orient floods its course.

Many a morn the sunny darling Saw the rising chariot-rays, From the winding river-reaches, Mellowing in amber haze.

Thro’ the flaming mountain gorges Lo, the River leaps the plain; Like a wild god-stridden courser, Tossing high its foamy mane.

Then he swims thro’ laurelled sunlight, Full of all sensations sweet, Misty with his morning incense, To the mirrored maiden’s feet!

Wet and bright the dinting pebbles Shine where oft she paused and stood; All her dreamy warmth revolving, While the chilly waters wooed.

Like to rosy-born Aurora, Glowing freshly into view, When her doubtful foot she ventures On the first cold morning blue.

White as that Thessalian lily, Fairest Tempe’s fairest flower, Lo, the tall Peneïan virgin Stands beneath her bathing bower.

There the laurell’d wreaths o’erarching Crown’d the dainty shuddering maid; There the dark prophetic laurel Kiss’d her with its sister shade.

There the young green glistening leaflets Hush’d with love their breezy peal; There the little opening flowerets Blush’d beneath her vermeil heel!

There among the conscious arbours Sounds of soft tumultuous wail, Mysteries of love, melodious, Came upon the lyric gale!

Breathings of a deep enchantment, Effluence of immortal grace, Flitted round her faltering footstep, Spread a balm about her face!

Witless of the enamour’d presence, Like a dreamy lotus bud From its drowsy stem down-drooping, Gazed she in the glowing flood.

Softly sweet with fluttering presage, Felt she that ethereal sense, Drinking charms of love delirious, Reaping bliss of love intense!

All the air was thrill’d with sunrise, Birds made music of her name, And the god-impregnate water Claspt her image ere she came.