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“ THOU THAT DRAWEST ASIDE THE CURTAIN."
THE LOVER'S DIARY.")
Thou that drawest aside the curtain,
Letting in the moon's broad beams,
Give, O give me back my dreams.
Take the larger light and grander,
Piercing all things through and through; Give me back the misty splendour,
Give me back the darling dew.
Take the harvest's ripe profusions,
Golden as the evening skies;
Give me back my wondering eyes.
Take the passionless caresses
All to waveless calm allied ;
And my hopes unsatisfied.
Thou that mak'st the real too real,
O, I pray thee, get thee hence !
Give me back my ignorance.
“COME OUT TO THE SIDE OF THE SEA."
“ COME OUT TO THE SIDE OF THE SEA."
(FROM " THE LOVER'S DIARY.")
Come out to the side of the sea, my love,
Come out to the side of the sea; The sun is set, and the stars are met,
And the winds and the waves agree. But star so bright, nor wave so light,
Brings pleasure or peace to me. () come, for I sit and wait, alone,
On the rocks by the side of the sea.
I am going down in my memory
To the blessed long ago, When the golden ground of the buttercups Was dashed with the daisies'
snow; And I'm thinking of all you said to me,
And if it were true or no,
From the beach so black and low.
If I should die, my love, my sweet,
Die of your smile forlorn,
Where all my joy was born ;
And the winds from night till morn
Where all his joy was born."
DREAMS AND REALITIES.
O ROSAMOND, thou fair and good,
Thou royal rose of June,
Why didst thou die so soon?
For, looking backward through my tears
I cannot choose but say,
"Twere better far to-day.
O child of light, 0 golden head
Upon life's lonely way-
From heaven's unclouded day?
O friend so true, O friend so good-
maidenhood, That gave youth all its charms, What had I done, or what hadst thou, That through this lonesome world till now We walk with empty arms ?
And yet, had this poor soul been fed
Had life been always fair-
Forever tremble there?
If still they kept their earthly place,
And gave to death, alas !
And almost longs to pass ?
Sometimes I think the things we see
That what we plan we build;
In heaven shall be fulfilled;
That even the children of the brain
Though here unclothed and dumb;
And wait for us to come.
And when on that last day we rise,
Then shall we hear our Lord Say, Thou hast done with doubt and death; llenceforth, according to thy faith,
Shall be thy faith's reward.
MY CASTLE IN SPAIN.
THERE was never a castle seen
So fair as mine in Spain :
The storied Vega plain,
And I toil through years of pain
In visions wild and sweet
Sometimes in joy its shining halls
Were blest with its ivied walls,
When the soft day dimly falls.
I know in its dusky rooms
Are treasures rich and rare : The spoil of Eastern looms,
And whatever of bright and fair Painters divine have caught and won
From the vault of Italy's air: White gods in Phidian stone