Such I believed it must be. How could I Let beast o'erpower them? When hath wind or rain

Borne hard upon weak plant that wanted me,

And I (however they might bluster round) 20 Walk'd off? 'Twere most ungrateful: for

sweet scents

Are the swift vehicles of still sweeter thoughts,

And nurse and pillow the dull memory That would let drop without them her best stores.

They bring me tales of youth and tones of love,

25 And 'tis and ever was my wish and way To let all flowers live freely, and all die (Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart)

Among their kindred in their native place. I never pluck the rose; the violet's head 30 Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank And not reproach'd me; the ever-sacred

5

10

15

20

muse shall give.

From PERICLES AND ASPASIA

1836

CORINNA TO TANAGRA

FROM ATHENS

Tanagra think not I forget

Thy beautifully-storied streets;
Be sure my memory bathes yet

In clear Thermodon, and yet greets The blithe and liberal shepherd-boy, Whose sunny bosom swells with joy When we accept his matted rushes Upheav'd with sylvan fruit; away he bounds, and blushes.

A gift I promise: one I see

Which thou with transport wilt receive,

The only proper gift for thee,

Of which no mortal shall bereave

In later times thy mouldering walls,
Until the last old turret falls;

A crown, a crown from Athens won,

A crown no God can wear, beside Latona's

son.

There may be cities who refuse

To their own child the honors due, And look ungently on the Muse; But ever shall those cities rue

15 And watchfulness. Again he spake of joy Eternal. At that word, that sad word, joy,

Faithful and fond her bosom heav'd once

more:

Her head fell back; one sob, one loud deep sob

Swell'd through the darken'd chamber;

'twas not hers.

20 With her that old boat incorruptible, Unwearied, undiverted in its course,

5

10

Had plash'd the water up the farther strand.

LIFE PASSES NOT AS SOME MEN SAY

Life passes not as some men say,
If you will only urge his stay,

And treat him kindly all the while.
He flies the dizzy strife of towns,
Cowers before thunder-bearing frowns,
But freshens up again at song and smile.

Ardalia! we will place him here,
And promise that nor sigh nor tear

Shall ever trouble his repose.
What precious seal will you impress
To ratify his happiness?

That rose1 thro' which you breathe? Come, bring that rose.

LITTLE AGLAE

TO HER FATHER, ON HER STATUE BEING CALLED

LIKE HER

Father! the little girl we see
Is not, I fancy, so like me;
You never hold her on your knee.

When she came home, the other day, 5 You kiss'd her; but I cannot say She kiss'd you first and ran away.

WE MIND NOT HOW THE SUN IN THE
MID-SKY

We mind not how the sun in the mid-sky
Is hastening on; but when the golden orb
Strikes the extreme of earth, and when the
gulfs

Of air and ocean open to receive him, 5 Dampness and gloom invade us; then we

Those who have laid the harp aside
And turn'd to idler things,
From very restlessness have tried

The loose and dusty strings,

5 And, catching back some favorite strain, Run with it o'er the chords again.

But Memory is not a Muse,

O Wordsworth! though 'tis said They all descend from her, and use 10 To haunt her fountain-head:

That other men should work for me
In the rich mines of Poesie,