Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of knots of Paradise. 160 Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag; Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree Cathay. Mother-Age (for mine I knew not), help me as when life begun: Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the lightnings, weigh the Sun. O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not set. Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres ▾ Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my My good blade carves the casques of men, The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel, The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly, The horse and rider reel: They reel, they roll in clanging lists, And when the tide of combat stands, How sweet are looks that ladies bend To save from shame and thrall: But all my heart is drawn above, My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine: I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. 36 When on my goodly charger borne Thro' dreaming towns I go, ΙΟ 20 The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, The streets are dumb with snow. The tempest crackles on the leads, 50 That makes you tyrants in your iron skies, But now shine on, and what care I, 467 40 Who in this stormy gulf have found a peari 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. It seems that I am happy, that to me 44 50 Not die; but live a life of truest breath, Maud made my Maud by that long loving kiss, Is that enchanted moan only the swell бо Of twelve sweet hours that past in bridal white, To dreamful wastes where footless fancies dwell 70 May nothing there her maiden grace affright! And ye meanwhile far over moor and fell tell, Blest, but for some dark undercurrent woe That seems to draw but it shall not be so: Let all be well, be well. 80 |