O Woman lovely woman how beguiling
Is thy sweet voice of music & thy smiles
Thy cheeks all roses & thy lips all smileing
& where's the treachery that thy heart beguiles
For thy sweet self man labours sweats & toils
Mines the whole earth & raviges the deep
For thee the summer in its glory smiles
Yet " Man was made to mourn" & women weep
& briars & thorns as harvests both must reap.

Flowing in the sunlight here,
The river shines like a glass,
Even as it did last year;
On the hillside the grass
Bows, as the breezes pass —
But my love is gone, my love is gone.

Where is she — where, and how?
Has she forgotten me yet?
Ah, she has forgotten me now!
She is too lovely for regret:
Would that I ever could forget,
My love is gone, my love is gone!

It is so still — so still ...
The sound of a rumbling train
Rushes into the hill.
Autumn comes again
With the old wonder and pain —

I

There is no one beside thee, and no one above thee;
Thou standest alone, as the nightingale sings!
And my words that would praise thee are impotent things,
For none can express thee, though all should approve thee.
I love thee so, dear, that I only can love thee.

II

Say, what can I do for thee? Weary thee, grieve thee?
Lean on thy shoulder, new burdens to add?
Weep my tears over thee, making thee sad?

How shall I sing of Her that is
My life's long rapture and despair —
Sorrow eternal — Loveliness,
To whom each heart-beat is a prayer!

Utterly, endlessly, alone
Possessing me, yet unpossessed —
The dark, the drear beloved One
That takes the tribute of this breast:

Daemon disconsolate, in vain,
In vain petitioned and implored —
How many a midnight of disdain
Darkly and dreadfully adored!

Beauty, the virgin, evermore
Out of these arms with laughter fled —
Vanished — a voice by slope and shore

The baffled dreamer, the defeated Christ
That for your love upon the cross-tree hung —
O take Him to your bosom, give Him rest
Close at the wanton wonder of your breast,
O carnal World, forever well and young!

As when in blustring, thund'ring, wintry days,
The bully Boreas on his bagpipe plays;
When old Aquarius ducks this earthly ball,
And empties on our heads his urinal;
When rumbling clouds on grumbling clouds do dash,
And 'midst the flashing lightnings lightnings flash;
Hogs, dogs, and men, perceive the troubled sky,
Hogs, dogs, and men, away for shelter fly;
While all around, the black, dark, gloomy scene
Looks grey, looks white, looks red, looks blue, looks green;
So green, so blue, so red, so grey, so white,

O Love, let the world for once go by,
With its danger-signals & warning cry,
Or else let us dream it was swung in space
Just that we two might stand face to face,
Soul within soul, as eye within eye,
Deaf, blind to all else save the you & the me —
Ah, for once, my life, let the whole world be!
What! We had promised? The words were not ours —
What! There's a heart dead? But ours are just born —

Ay, what will it matter, when all are dead,
That we died apart, with one word unsaid?

What happy thoughts the summer yields
Like woman soft & fair
The voice of love is in the fields
While music fills the air.

As we sit, you and I, in the twilight
And breathe the soft breath of the roses
That mingled with lily and iris
Steals up from your quaint garden-closes;
In the mystical, soft evening weather
When the sunset burns amber and clear
I think that a life-time together
Would not be half long enough, dear!

I long — how I long, my heart's Lady,
To call you a name that is dearer,
To be — always your slave and your lover
And in time something fonder and nearer.
Come home to me, darling, my Lady!
Let the name that I call you be wife.

I love the Forest and its airy bounds,
Where friendly CAMPBELL takes his daily rounds;
I love the break neck hills, that headlong go,
And leave me high, and half the world below;
I love to see the Beach Hill mounting high,
The brook without a bridge, and nearly dry.
There's Bucket's Hill, a place of furze and clouds,
Which evening in a golden blaze enshrouds:
I hear the cows go home with tinkling bell,
And see the woodman in the forest dwell,
Whose dog runs eager where the rabbit's gone;
He eats the grass, then kicks and hurries on;