AUTUMN.

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn

Stand shadowless like Silence, listening

To silence, for no lonely bird would sing

Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,

Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;

Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright

With tangled gossamer that fell by night,

Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

Where are the songs of Summer?—With the sun,

Opening the dusky eyelids of the south,

Till shade and silence waken up as one,

And Morning sings with a warm odorous mouth.

Where are the merry birds?—Away, away,

On panting wings through the inclement skies,

Lest owls should prey

Undazzled at noon-day,

And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes.

Where are the blooms of Summer?—In the west,

Blushing their last to the last sunny hours.

When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest

Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs

To a most gloomy breast.

Where is the pride of Summer,—the green prime,—

The many, many leaves all twinkling?—Three

On the moss'd elm; three on the naked lime

Trembling,—and one upon the old oak tree!

Where is the Dryad's immortality?—

Gone into mournful cypress and dark yew,

Or wearing the long gloomy Winter through

In the smooth holly's green eternity.

The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard,

The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain,

And honey been save stored

The sweets of summer in their luscious cells;

The swallows all have wing'd across the main;

But here the Autumn melancholy dwells,

And sighs her tearful spells

Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain.

Alone, alone,

Upon a mossy stone,

She sits and reckons up the dead and gone,

With the last leaves for a love-rosary;

Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily,

Like a dim picture of the drownëd past

In the hush'd mind's mysterious far-away,

Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last

Into that distance, gray upon the gray.

O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded

Under the languid downfall of her hair;

She wears a coronal of flowers faded

Upon her forehead, and a face of care;—

There is enough of wither'd everywhere

To make her bower,—and enough of gloom;

There is enough of sadness to invite,

If only for the rose that died, whose doom

Is Beauty's,—she that with the living bloom

Of conscious cheeks most beautifies the light:

There is enough of sorrowing, and quite

Enough of bitter fruits the earth doth bear,—

Enough of chilly droppings from her bowl;

Enough of fear and shadowy despair,

To frame her cloudy prison for the soul!

[SONNET.]

SILENCE.

There is a silence where hath been no sound,

There is a silence where no sound may be,

In the cold grave—under the deep deep sea,

Or in wide desert where no life is found,

Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;

No voice is hush'd—no life treads silently,

But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free.

That never spoke, over the idle ground:

But in green ruins, in the desolate walls

Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,

Though the dun fox, or wild hyæna, calls,

And owls, that flit continually between,

Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan,—

There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.

[SONNET.]

WRITTEN IN KEATS' "ENDYMION."

I saw pale Dian, sitting by the brink

Of silver falls, the overflow of fountains

From cloudy steeps; and I grew sad to think

Endymion's foot was silent on those mountains.

And he but a hush'd name, that Silence keeps

In dear remembrance,—lonely, and forlorn,

Singing it to herself until she weeps

Tears, that perchance still glisten in the morn:—

And as I mused, in dull imaginings,

There came a flash of garments, and I knew

The awful Muse by her harmonious wings

Charming the air to music as she flew—

Anon there rose an echo through the vale

Gave back Enydmion in a dreamlike tale.

[SONNET.]

TO AN ENTHUSIAST.

Young ardent soul, graced with fair Nature's truth,

Spring warmth of heart, and fervency of mind,

And still a large late love of all thy kind.

Spite of the world's cold practice and Time's tooth,—

For all these gifts, I know not, in fair sooth,

Whether to give thee joy, or bid thee blind

Thine eyes with tears,—that thou hast not resign'd

The passionate fire and freshness of thy youth:

For as the current of thy life shall flow,

Gilded by shine of sun or shadow-stain'd,

Through flow'ry valley or unwholesome fen,

Thrice blessed in thy joy, or in thy woe

Thrice cursed of thy race,—thou art ordain'd

To share beyond the lot of common men.

[TO A COLD BEAUTY.]

Lady, wouldst thou heiress be

To Winters cold and cruel part?

When he sets the rivers free,

Thou dost still lock up thy heart;—

Thou that shouldst outlast the snow,

But in the whiteness of thy brow?

Scorn and cold neglect are made

For winter gloom and winter wind,

But thou wilt wrong the summer air,

Breathing it to words unkind,—

Breath which only should belong

To love, to sunlight, and to song!

When the little buds unclose.

Red, and white, and pied, and blue,

And that virgin flow'r, the rose,

Opes her heart to hold the dew,

Wilt thou lock thy bosom up

With no jewel in its cup?

Let not cold December sit

Thus in Love's peculiar throne:

Brooklets are not prison'd now,

But crystal frosts are all agone,

And that which hangs upon the spray,

It is no snow, but flow'r of May!

[SONNET.]

DEATH.

It is not death, that sometime in a sigh

This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight;

That sometime these bright stars, that now reply

In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night;

That warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,

And all life's ruddy springs forget to flow;

That thoughts shall cease, and the immortal sprite

Be lapp'd in alien clay and laid below;

It is not death to know this,—but to know

That pious thoughts, which visit at new graves

In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go

So duly and so oft,—and when grass waves

Over the past-away, there may be then

No resurrection in the minds of men.

[SERENADE.]

Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how

I wake and passionate watches keep;

And yet while I address thee now,

Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep.

'Tis sweet enough to make me weep,

That tender thought of love and thee,

That while the world is hush'd so deep,

Thy soul's perhaps awake to me!

Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep!

With golden visions of thy dower,

While I this midnight vigil keep,

And bless thee in thy silent bower;

To me 'tis sweeter than the power

Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurl'd,

That I alone, at this still hour,

In patient love outwatch the world.

[VERSES IN AN ALBUM.]

Far above the hollow

Tempest, and its moan,

Singeth bright Apollo

In his golden zone,—

Cloud doth never shade him,

Nor a storm invade him,

On his joyous throne.

So when I behold me

In an orb as bright,

How thy soul doth fold me

In its throne of light!

Sorrow never paineth,

Nor a care attaineth

To that blessed height.

[THE FORSAKEN.]

The dead are in their silent graves,

And the dew is cold above,

And the living weep and sigh,

Over dust that once was love.

Once I only wept the dead,

But now the living cause my pain:

How couldst thou steal me from my tears,

To leave me to my tears again?

My Mother rests beneath the sod,—

Her rest is calm and very deep:

I wish'd that she could see our loves,—

But now I gladden in her sleep.

Last night unbound my raven locks,

The morning saw them turned to gray,

Once they were black and well beloved,

But thou art changed,—and so are they!

The useless lock I gave thee once,

To gaze upon and think of me,

Was ta'en with smiles,—but this was torn

In sorrow that I send to thee!

[SONG.]

The stars are with the voyager

Wherever he may sail;

The moon is constant to her time;

The sun will never fail;

But follow, follow round the world,

The green earth and the sea,

So love is with the lover's heart,

Wherever he may be.

Wherever he may be, the stars

Must daily lose their light;

The moon will veil her in the shade;

The sun will set at night.

The sun may set, but constant love

Will shine when he's away;

So that dull night is never night,

And day is brighter day.

[SONG.]

O Lady, leave thy silken thread

And flowery tapestrie:

There's living roses on the bush,

And blossoms on the tree;

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand

Some random bud will meet;

Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find

The daisy at thy feet.

'Tis like the birthday of the world,

When earth was born in bloom;

The light is made of many dyes,

The air is all perfume;

There's crimson buds, and white and blue—

The very rainbow showers

Have turn'd to blossoms where they fell,

And sown the earth with flowers.

There's fairy tulips in the east,

The garden of the sun;

The very streams reflect the hues,

And blossom as they run:

While Morn opes like a crimson rose,

Still wet with pearly showers;

Then, lady, leave the silken thread

Thou twinest into flowers!

[BIRTHDAY VERSES.]

Good morrow to the golden morning,

Good morrow to the world's delight—

I've come to bless thy life's beginning,

Since it makes my own so bright!

I have brought no roses, sweetest,

I could find no flowers, dear,—

It was when all sweets were over

Thou wert born to bless the year.

But I've brought thee jewels, dearest,

In thy bonny locks to shine,—

And if love shows in their glances,

They have learn'd that look of mine!

[I LOVE THEE.]

I love thee—I love thee!

'Tis all that I can say;—

It is my vision in the night,

My dreaming in the day;

The very echo of my heart,

The blessing when I pray:

I love thee—I love thee!

Is all that I can say.

I love thee—I love thee!

Is ever on my tongue;

In all my proudest poesy

That chorus still is sung;

It is the verdict of my eyes,

Amidst the gay and young:

I love thee—I love thee!

A thousand maids among.

I love thee—I love thee!

Thy bright hazel glance,

The mellow lute upon those lips,

Whose tender tones entrance;

But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs

That still these words enhance,

I love thee—I love thee!

Whatever be thy chance.

[LINES.]

Let us make a leap, my dear,

In our love, of many a year,

And date it very far away,

On a bright clear summer day,

When the heart was like a sun

To itself, and falsehood none;

And the rosy lips a part

Of the very loving heart,

And the shining of the eye

But a sign to know it by;—

When my faults were all forgiven,

And my life deserved of Heaven.

Dearest, let us reckon so,

And love for all that long ago;

Each absence count a year complete,

And keep a birthday when we meet.

[FALSE POETS AND TRUE.]

TO WORDSWORTH.

Look how the lark soars upward and is gone,

Turning a spirit as he nears the sky!

His voice is heard, but body there is none

To fix the vague excursions of the eye.

So, poets' songs are with us, tho' they die

Obscured, and hid by death's oblivious shroud,

And Earth inherits the rich melody

Like raining music from the morning cloud.

Yet, few there be who pipe so sweet and loud

Their voices reach us through the lapse of space:

The noisy day is deafen'd by a crowd

Of undistinguished birds, a twittering race;

But only lark and nightingale forlorn

Fill up the silences of night and morn.

[THE TWO SWANS.]