Low and mournful be the strain,
Haughty thought be far from me;
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I do not count the hours I spend
In wandering by the sea;
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A JOURNAL.
DEDICATED TO MY FELLOW-TRAVELLERS IN AUGUST, 1858.
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S. H.
With beams December planets dart
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If thou canst bear
Strong meat of simple truth
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Roving, roving, as it seems,
Una lights my clouded dreams;
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OUR eyeless bark sails free,
Though with boom and spar
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ALL day the waves assailed the rock,
I heard no church-bell chime;
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Gold and iron are good
To buy iron and gold;
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I am the Muse who sung alway
By Jove, at dawn of the first day.
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You shall not be overbold
When you deal with arctic cold,
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And I behold once more
My old familiar haunts; here the blue river,
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AND when I am entombèd in my place,
Be it remembered of a single man,
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Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
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O tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire;
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The living Heaven thy prayers respect,
House at once and architect,
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Space is ample, east and west,
But two cannot go abreast,
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Of Merlin wise I learned a song,--
Sing it low or sing it loud,
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Every day brings a ship,
Every ship brings a word;
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I hung my verses in the wind,
Time and tide their faults may find.
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Good Heart, that ownest all!
I ask a modest boon and small:
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Grace, Beauty, and Caprice
Build this golden portal;
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Ruby wine is drunk by knaves,
Sugar spends to fatten slaves,
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Two well-assorted travellers use
The highway, Eros and the Muse.
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I mourn upon this battle-field,
But not for those who perished here.
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HENCEFORTH, please God, forever I forego
The yoke of men's opinions. I will be
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LONG I followed happy guides,
I could never reach their sides;
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Butler, fetch the ruby wine,
Which with sudden greatness fills us;
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Of Paradise, O hermit wise,
Let us renounce the thought.
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Winters know
Easily to shed the snow,
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