SONG. 1818. I. HUSH, hush! tread softly! hush, hush, my dear! Tho' your feet are more light than a Faery's feet, II. No leaf doth tremble, no ripple is there On the river,―all's still, and the night's sleepy eye Closes up, and forgets all its Lethean care, Charm'd to death by the drone of the humming May-fly; And the moon, whether prudish or complaisant, Has fled to her bower, well knowing I want No light in the dusk, no torch in the gloom, my Isabel's eyes, and her lips pulp'd with bloom. But III. Lift the latch! ah gently! ah tenderly-sweet! Full-blown, and such warmth for the morning take, The stock-dove shall hatch his soft twin-eggs and coo, While I kiss to the melody, aching all through! SONG. I HAD a dove and the sweet dove died; And I have thought it died of grieving : 1818. O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied, With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving; Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me? FAERY SONG. SHED no tear! O, shed no tear! To ease my breast of melodies Shed no tear. Overhead look overhead! 'Mong the blossoms white and red- Shed no tear! O shed no tear! Adieu, Adieu-I fly, adieu, I vanish in the heaven's blue Adieu, Adieu! SONG. SPIRIT here that reignest! Spirit here that painest! Spirit here that burnest! Spirit here that mournest! My forehead low, All passion-struck, Into thy pale dominions! Spirit here that laughest! Spirit here that quaffest! Spirit here that dancest! Noble soul that prancest! I join in the glee, While nudging the elbow of Momus ! Spirit! I flush With a Bacchanal blush, Just fresh from the banquet of Comus! FAERY SONG. АH! woe is me! poor silver-wing! That I must see These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall! Such calm favonian burial! Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,- And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice That now in vain are weeping their last tears, -- At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,Alas! poor Queen! |