THE world is dreary,
And I'm weary
Of wandering on without thee, Mary;
A joy was erewhile
In thy voice and thy smile,
And 'tis gone, when I should be gone too, Mary.
These are songs of the Friends I neglected—
And the Foes, too, in part;
These are songs that were mostly rejected—
And songs from my heart.
Yours truly.
Through the house give glimmering light
By the dead and drowsy fire;
Every elf and fairy sprite
hop as light as bird from brier.
Now, until the break of day
Through this house each fairy stray.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee.
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
Music, thou Queen of Heaven, Care-charming-spell,
That strik'st a stillness into hell:
Thou that tam'st Tygers, and fierce storms (that rise)
With thy soul-melting Lullabies:
Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres,
To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears.
Pray thee, take care, that tak'st my book in hand,
To read it well -- that is, to understand.
BREEZE of the night, across my pillow straying
Breeze of the night, of summer dews begot,
Salt from the sea-shore, where the waves are playing,
Slow, to and fro, my window curtains swaying
Cool my flushed cheeks, by recent sleep left hot.
What I had been without thee, I know not--yet, to my sorrow
See I what, without thee, hundreds and thousands now are.
Now that a candle-shadow stands on the screen of carven marble
And the River of Heaven slants and the morning stars are low,
Are you sorry for having stolen the potion that has set you
Over purple seas and blue skies, to brood through the long nights?
"Give me only a fragment of earth beyond the earth's limits,"--
So the godlike man said,--"and I will move it with ease."
Only give me permission to leave myself for one moment,
And without any delay I will engage to be yours.
