VILLANELLE.

In the clatter of the train
Is a promise brisk and bright.
I shall see my love again!

I am tired and fagged and fain;
But I feel a still delight
In the clatter of the train,

Hurry-hurrying on amain
Through the moonshine thin and white—
I shall see my love again!

Many noisy miles remain;
But a sympathetic sprite
In the clatter of the train

Hammers cheerful:-that the strain
Once concluded and the fight,
I shall see my love again.

Yes, the overword is plain,—
If it's trivial, if it's trite—
In the clatter of the train:
"I shall see my love again."

W. E. Henley.

Villanelle, why art thou mute?
Hath the singer ceased to sing?
Hath the Master lost his lute?

Many a pipe and scrannel flute
On the breeze their discords fling;
Villanelle, why art thou mute?

Sound of tumult or dispute,
Noise of war the echoes bring;
Hath the Master lost his lute?

Once he sang of bud and shoot
In the season of the Spring;
Villanelle, why art thou mute?

Fading leaf and falling fruit
Say, "The year is on the wing,
Hath the Master lost his lute?"

Ere the axe lies at the root,
Ere the winter comes as king,
Villanelle, why art thou mute?
Hath the Master lost his lute!

Andrew Lang.

Child of the muses and the moon,
O nightingale, return and sing,
Thy song is over all too soon.

Let not night's quire yield place to noon,
To this red breast thy tawny wing,
Child of the muses and the moon.

Sing us once more the same sad tune
Pandion heard when he was king,
Thy song is over all too soon.

Night after night thro' leafy June
The stars were hush'd and listening,
Child of the muses and the moon.

Now new moons grow to plenilune
And wane, but no new music bring;
Thy song is over all too soon.

Ah, thou art weary! well, sleep on,
Sleep till the sun brings back the spring.
Thy song is over all too soon,
Child of the muses and the moon.

"Love in Idleness."