Ah me, ah me! when erst I lay
In that child's-nest so greenly wrought,
I laughed unto myself and thought
"The time will pass away."
And still I laughed, and did not fear
But that, whene'er was past away
The childish time, some happier play
My womanhood would cheer.
I knew the time would pass away,
And yet, beside the rose-tree wall,
Dear God, how seldom, if at all,
Did I look up to pray!
The time is past; and now that grows
The cypress high among the trees,
And I behold white sepulchres
As well as the white rose,
When graver, meeker thoughts are given,
And I have learnt to lift my face,
Reminded how earth's greenest place
The colour draws from heaven,—
It something saith for earthly pain,
But more for Heavenly promise free,
That I who was, would shrink to be
That happy child again.
I WOULD build a cloudy House
For my thoughts to live in,
When for earth too fancy-loose,
And too low for heaven:
Hush! I talk my dream aloud,
I build it bright to see,—
I build it on the moonlit cloud
To which I looked with thee.
Cloud-walls of the morning's grey,
Faced with amber column, Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn :
May-mists, for the casements, fetch,
Pale and glimmering, With a sunbeam hid in each And a smell of spring.
Build the entrance high and proud, Darkening and then brightening, Of a riven thunder-cloud,
Veined by the lightning:
Use one with an iris-stain
For the door so thin,
Turning to a sound like rain
As I enter in.
Build a spacious hall thereby
Boldly, never fearing ;
Use the blue place of the sky
Which the wind is clearing :
Branched with corridors sublime,
Flecked with winding stairs,
Such as children wish to climb
Following their own prayers.
In the mutest of the house,
I will have my chamber;
Silence at the door shall use
Evening's light of amber,
Solemnizing every mood,
Softening in degree,
Turning sadness into good
As I turn the key.
Be my chamber tapestried
With the showers of summer,
Close, but soundless, glorified
When the sunbeams come here-
Wandering harpers, harping on
Waters stringed for such,
Drawing colour, for a tune,
With a vibrant touch.
Bring a shadow green and still
From the chestnut-forest,
Bring a purple from the hill
When the heat is sorest;
Spread them out from wall to wall,
Carpet-wove around,
Whereupon the foot shall fall
In light instead of sound.
Bring fantastic cloudlets home
From the noontide zenith,
Ranged for sculptures round the room,
Named as Fancy weeneth ;
Some be Junos, without eyes,
Naiads, without sources,
Some be birds of paradise,
Some, Olympian horses.
Bring the dews the birds shake off
Waking in the hedges,-
Those too, perfumed for a proof,
From the lilies' edges:
From our England's fieia and moor,
Bring them calm and white in, Whence to form a mirror pure For Love's self-delighting.
Bring a grey cloud from the east
Where the lark is singing,
(Something of the song at least
Unlost in the bringing):
That shall be a morning-chair
Poet-dream may sit in
When it leans out on the air,
Unrhymed and unwritten.
Bring the red cloud from the sun,
While he sinketh catch it;
That shall be a couch,-with one
Sidelong star to watch it,—
Fit for poet's finest thought
At the curfew-sounding;
Things unseen being nearer brought
Than the seen, around him.
Poet's thought,—not poet's sigh.
'Las, they come together!
Cloudy walls divide and fly
As in April weather.
Cupola and column proud,
Structure bright to see,
Gone! except that moonlit cloud
To which I looked with thee.
Let them! Wipe such visionings
From the fancy's cartel:
Love secures some fairer things,
Dowered with his immortal.
The sun may darken, heaven be bowed
But still unchanged shall be,—
Here, in my soul,-that moonlit cloud
To which I looked with THEE!
A SABBATH MORNING AT SEA.
THE ship went on with solemn face;
To meet the darkness on the deep,
The solemn ship went onward :
I bowed down weary in the place,
For parting tears and present sleep
Had weighed mine eyelids downward.
Thick sleep which shut all dreams from me
And kept my inner self apart
And quiet from emotion,
Then brake away and left me free,
Made conscious of a human heart
Betwixt the heaven and ocean.
The new sight, the new wondrous sight!
The waters round me, turbulent,
The skies impassive o'er me,
Calm in a moonless, sunless light,
Half glorified by that intent
Of holding the day-glory!
Two pale thin clouds did stand upon
The meeting line of sea and sky,
With aspect still and mystic:
I think they did foresee the sun,
And rested on their prophecy
In quietude majestic,
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