An answering thought within me springeth, A bloom of the mind her vision bringeth.

Between the dim hill's distant azure

And flowery foreground of sparkling pleasure

I see the company
of figures sainted,
For whom the picture
of earth was painted.

Those robèd seërs

who made man's story The crown of Nature,

Her cause his glory.

They walk in the city

which they have builded,

The city of God

from evil shielded:

To them for canopy

the vault of heaven,

The flowery earth

for carpet is given;

Whereon I wander

not unknowing, With worship and joy my heart o'erflowing.

1901.

5

MILLICENT

THOU dimpled Millicent, of merry guesses,
Strong-limb'd and tall, tossing thy wayward tresses,
What mystery of the heart can so surprise
The mirth and music of thy brimming eyes?

Pale-brow, thou knowest not and diest to learn
The mortal secret that doth in thee burn;
With look imploring 'If you love me, tell,
What is it in me that you love so well?'
And suddenly thou stakest all thy charms,
And leapest on me; and in thy circling arms
When almost stifled with their wild embrace,
I feel thy hot tears sheltering on my face.

1901.

6

VIVAMUS

WHEN thou didst give thy love to me,
Asking no more of gods or men

I vow'd I would contented be,

If Fate should grant us summers ten.
But now that twice the term is sped,
And ever young my heart and gay,
I fear the words that then I said,
And turn my face from Fate away.

To bid thee happily good-bye

I have no hope that I can see, No way that I shall bravely die, Unless I give my life for thee.

1901.

7

ONE grief of thine

if truth be confest

Was joy to me;

for it drave to my breast Thee, to my heart

to find thy rest.

How long it was

I never shall know:

I watcht the earth

so stately and slow, And the ancient things that waste and grow.

But now for me

what speed devours

Our heavenly life,

our brilliant hours!

How fast they fly,

the stars and flowers!

8

IN still midsummer night

When the moon is late

And the stars all watery and white For her coming wait,

A spirit, whose eyes are possest
By wonder new,

Passeth-her arms upon her breast

Enwrapt from the dew

In a raiment of azure fold

With diaper

Of flower'd embroidery of gold
Bestarr'd with silver.

The daisy folk are awake

Their carpet to spread,

And the thron'd stars gazing on her make

Fresh crowns for her head,

Netted in her floating hair

As she drifteth free

Between the starriness of the air

And the starry lea,

From the silent-shadow'd vale

By the west wind drawn Aloft to melt into the pale Moonrise of dawn.

9

MELANCHOLIA

THE sickness of desire, that in dark days
Looks on the imagination of despair,
Forgetteth man, and stinteth God his praise;
Nor but in sleep findeth a cure for care.
Incertainty that once gave scope to dream
Of laughing enterprise and glory untold,
Is now a blackness that no stars redeem,
A wall of terror in a night of cold.

Fool! thou that hast impossibly desired
And now impatiently despairest, see

1910.

How nought is changed: Joy's wisdom is attired Splendid for others' eyes if not for thee:

Not love or beauty or youth from earth is fled: If they delite thee not, 'tis thou art dead.

1904.

ΙΟ

TO THE PRESIDENT OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD

SINCE now from woodland mist and flooded clay

I am fled beside the steep Devonian shore,
Nor stand for welcome at your gothic door,
'Neath the fair tower of Magdalen and May,
Such tribute, Warren, as fond poets pay
For generous esteem, I write, not more
Enhearten'd than my need is, reckoning o'er
My life-long wanderings on the heavenly way :

But well-befriended we become good friends,
Well-honour'd honourable; and all attain
Somewhat by fathering what fortune sends.
I bid your presidency a long reign,

True friend; and may your praise to greater ends
Aid better men than I, nor me in vain.

II

TO JOSEPH JOACHIM

BELOV'D of all to whom that Muse is dear
Who hid her spirit of rapture from the Greek,
Whereby our art excelleth the antique,
Perfecting formal beauty to the ear;
Thou that hast been in England many a year
The interpreter who left us nought to seek,
Making Beethoven's inmost passion speak,
Bringing the soul of great Sebastian near