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And dead leaves wrap the fruits that summer planted:
And birds that love the South have taken wing.
The wanderer, loitering o'er the scene enchanted,
Weeps, and despairs of spring.


POOR withered rose and dry,
Skeleton of a rose,

Risen to testify

To love's sad close:

Treasured for love's sweet sake,
That of joy past

Thou might'st again awake
Memory at last.

Yet is thy perfume sweet;
Thy petals red

Yet tell of summer heat,
And the gay bed:

Yet, yet recall the glow
Of the gazing sun,
When at thy bush we two
Joined hands in one.

But, rose, thou hast not seen,
Thou hast not wept
The change that passed between,
Whilst thou hast slept.

To me thou seemest yet

The dead dream's thrall:
While I live and forget

Dream, truth and all.

Thou art more fresh than I,
Rose, sweet and red:
Salt on my pale cheeks lie
The tears I shed.



THE cliff-top has a carpet

Of lilac, gold and green: The blue sky bounds the ocean, The white clouds scud between.

A flock of gulls are wheeling

And wailing round my seat; Above my head the heaven, The sea beneath my feet.


Were I a cloud I'd gather
My skirts up in the air,
And fly I well know whither,
And rest I well know where.

As pointed the star surely,
The legend tells of old,
Where the wise kings might offer
Myrrh, frankincense, and gold;

Above the house I'd hover

Where dwells my love, and wait Till haply I might spy her

Throw back the garden-gate.

There in the summer evening

I would bedeck the moon; I would float down and screen her From the sun's rays at noon;

And if her flowers should languish,

Or wither in the drought

Upon her tall white lilies

I'd pour my heart's blood out :

So if she wore one only,

And shook not out the rain, Were I a cloud, O cloudlet,

I had not lived in vain.


But were I thou, O ocean,

I would not chafe and fret
As thou, because a limit
To thy desires is set.

[A cloud speaks.

I would be blue, and gentle,
Patient, and calm, and see
If my smiles might not tempt her,
My love, to come to me.

I'd make my depths transparent,
And still, that she should lean
O'er the boat's edge to ponder
The sights that swam between.

I would command strange creatures,
Of bright hue and quick fin,
To stir the water near her,

And tempt her bare arm in.

I'd teach her spend the summer
With me and I can tell,
That, were I thou, O ocean,

My love should love me well

But on the mad cloud scudded,
The breeze it blew so stiff;
And the sad ocean bellowed,
And pounded at the cliff.


I HEARD a linnet courting
His lady in the spring:
His mates were idly sporting,
Nor stayed to hear him sing
His song of love.—
I fear my speech distorting
His tender love.

The phrases of his pleading
Were full of young delight;
And she that gave him heeding
Interpreted aright

His gay, sweet notes,-
So sadly marred in the reading,-
His tender notes.

And when he ceased, the hearer
Awaited the refrain,

Till swiftly perching nearer


He sang his song again, His pretty song :Would that my verse spake clearer

His tender song!

Ye happy, airy creatures!

That in the merry spring Think not of what misfeatures Or cares the year may bring; But unto love

Resign your simple natures,
To tender love.


DEAR lady, when thou frownest,
And my true love despisest,
And all thy vows disownest

That sealed my venture wisest ;
I think thy pride's displeasure
Neglects a matchless treasure
Exceeding price and measure.

But when again thou smilest,

And love for love returnest,
And fear with joy beguilest,

And takest truth in earnest ;
Then, though I sheer adore thee,
The sum of my love for thee
Seems poor, scant, and unworthy.


I WILL not let thee go.

Ends all our month-long love in this?
Can it be summed up so,

Quit in a single kiss?
I will not let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

If thy words' breath could scare thy deeds,

As the soft south can blow

And toss the feathered seeds,
Then might I let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

Had not the great sun seen, I might;
Or were he reckoned slow
To bring the false to light,
Then might I let thee go.

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