Vaporous, unaccountable, Dreamland lies forlorn of light, Ah! that from all dreams I might What her sleep should tell to-night. There the dreams are multitudes : Some whose buoyance waits not sleep, Deep within the August woods; Some that hum while rest may steep Some, of grievous moods that weep. Poets' fancies all are there : There the elf-girls flood with wings Valleys full of plaintive air; There breathe perfumes; there in rings Whirl the foam-bewildered springs; Siren there Winds her dizzy hair and sings. Thence the one dream mutually Dreamed in bridal unison, Less than waking ecstasy; Half-formed visions that make moan In the house of birth alone; At death's wicket see, unknown. But for mine own sleep, it lies Fair with honourable eyes, Lamps of an auspicious soul: Wherein Love descries his goal. Reft of her, my dreams are all Clammy trance that fears the sky: Changing footpaths shift and fall; From polluted coverts nigh, Miserable phantoms sigh; Quakes the pall, And the funeral goes by. Master, is it soothly said That, as echoes of man's speech Far in secret clefts are made, So do all men's bodies reach Shadows o'er thy sunken beach,— Shape or shade In those halls pourtrayed of each? Ah! might I, by thy good grace Send it from that place to her! Nay, not I; but oh! do thou, Feel its presence bow like wind. Where in groves the gracile Spring Trembles, with mute orison Confidently strengthening, Water's voice and wind's as one Shed an echo in the sun. Soft as Spring Master, bid it sing and moan. Song shall tell how glad and strong Is the night she soothes alway; Moan shall grieve with that parched tongue Of the brazen hours of day: Sounds as of the springtide they, Moan and song, While the chill months long for May. Not the prayers which with all leave Strength that shall not grieve or err. Wheresoe'er my dreams befall, Both at night-watch (let it say,) Rest and call ; – There her glance doth fall and stay. Suddenly her face is there : So do mounting vapours wreathe The black firwood sets its teeth. Secret waters there, and breathe. Master, bid my shadow bend Whispering thus till birth of light, Lest new shapes that sleep may send Scatter all its work to flight ;— Master, master of the night, Bid it spend Speech, song, prayer, and end aright. Yet, ah me! if at her head Shall it strive, or fade unseen? How should love's own messenger Strive with love and be love's foe? Sleep a wedded heart should show,- Of thy sunken air to know. Like a vapour wan and mute, Like a flame, so let it pass; One low sigh across her lute, One dull breath against her glass; Cold as when death's foot shall pass. Then, too, let all hopes of mine, All vain hopes by night and day, Slowly at thy summoning sign Rise up pallid and obey. Dreams, if this is thus, were they :Be they thine, And to dreamland pine away. Yet from old time, life, not death, Master, in thy rule is rife : Lo! through thee, with mingling breath, O Love bring me so, for strife, Bring me so not death but life! Yea, to Love himself is pour'd This frail song of hope and fear. With kind Sleep to bring her near, In her name implor'd, O hear! LOVE'S LOVERS. Some ladies love the jewels in Love's zone And some that listen to his Lute's soft tone Some prize his blindfold sight; and there be they Who kissed his wings which brought him yesterday And thank his wings to-day that he is flown. My lady only loves the heart of Love: Therefore Love's heart, my lady, hath for thee His bower of unimagined flower and tree: There kneels he now, and all-anhungered of Thine eyes grey-lit in shadowing hair above, Seals with thy mouth his immortality. LOVE-LILY. Between the hands, between the brows, A spirit is born whose birth endows Who laughs and murmurs in mine ear, And whom my life grows faint to hear. |