Slowly awakened, grow so full and deep But am as nothing in its light: As though a star, in inmost heaven set, Should slowly round his orb, and slowly grow To a full face, there like a sun remain Fixed-then as slowly fade again, And draw itself to what it was before; Thought seems to come and go As thunder-clouds that, hung on high, Roofed the world with doubt and fear, In thee all passion becomes passionless, In a silent meditation, Falling into a still delight, VOL. I. And luxury of contemplation: 7 As waves that up a quiet cove Rolling slide, and lying still Shadow forth the banks at will; But when I see thee roam, with tresses unconfined, While the amorous, odorous wind Breathes low between the sunset and the moon Or, in a shadowy saloon,\ On silken cushions half reclined; I watch thy grace; and in its place While I muse upon thy face; And a languid fire creeps Through my veins to all my frame, Dissolvingly and slowly soon, From thy rose-red lips my name I drink the cup of a costly death, Brimmed with delirious draughts of warmest life. I die with my delight, before I hear what I would hear from thee; Yet tell my name again to me. I would be dying evermore, THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. I SEE the wealthy miller yet, His double chin, his portly size, In yonder chair I see him sit, Three fingers round the old silver cup I see his gray eyes twinkle yet up With summer lightnings of a soul His Yet fill my glass: give me one kiss: Have I not found a happy earth? I least should breathe a thought of pain. Would God renew me from my birth I'd almost live my life again. So sweet it seems with thee to walk, And once again to woo thee mine It seems in after-dinner talk Across the walnuts and the wine To be the long and listless boy Late left an orphan of the squire, Where this old mansion mounted high Looks down upon the village spire: For even here, where I and you Have lived and loved alone so long, Each morn my sleep was broken through By some wild skylark's matin song. |