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SURE never yet was Antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Will hit you in the eye.
How fairy-like you fly!
I hate that silly sigh.
Or tell me how to die.
And hang yourself thereby.
Move eastward, happy earth, and leave
Yon orange sunset waning slow. From fringes of the faded eve,
O, happy planet, eastward go; Till over thy dark shoulder glow
Thy silver sister-world, and rise To glass herself in dewy eyes
That.watch me from the glen below.
Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne,
Dip forward under starry light, And move me to my marriage-morn,
And round again to happy night.
BREAK, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea !
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay !
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
And the sound of a voice that is still !
Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
THE POET'S SONG.
The rain had fallen, the Poet arose,
He pass'd by the town, and out of the street; A light wind blew from the gates of the sun,
And the waves of shadow went over the wheat, And he sat him down in a lonely place,
And chanted a melody loud and sweet, That made the wild-swan pause in her cloud,
And the lark drop down at his feet.
The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee,
The snake slipt under a spray, The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak,
And stared, with his foot on the prey,