And neither the angels in heaven above, For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side THE HAUNTED PALACE. IN the greenest of our valleys In the monarch Thought's dominion- Never seraph spread a pinion Banners yellow, glorious, golden, And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A wingèd odour went away. Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous window, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tunèd law, Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogene!) In state his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, And travellers, now, within that valley, While, like a ghastly rapid river, A hideous throng rush out for ever, THE CONQUEROR WORM. Lo! 'tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! A play of hopes and fears, Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mere puppets they, who come and go That motley drama-oh, be sure With its Phantom chased for evermore Through a circle that ever returneth in And much of Madness, and more of Sin, But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out It writhes!-it writhes!-with mortal pangs And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. Out-out are the lights-out all! And over each quivering form The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, That the play is the tragedy "Man," TO FS S. O- -D. Thou wouldst be loved?-then let thy heart HYMN. AT morn- -at noon-at twilight dim- Darkly my Present and my Past, Let my Future radiant shine With sweet hopes of thee and thine! A VALENTINE. FOR her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure- Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing Like the knight Pinto-Mendez Ferdinando- You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do. [To discover the names in this and the following poem, read the first letter of the first line in connection with the second letter of the second line, the third letter of the third line, the fourth of the fourth, and so on to the end.] |