"What mazy ripples of deep, eddying sound,
Rise, touch the roof-tree old, and drift around,
"Bearing aloft the burden musical
Of joys and griefs from human hearts that fall!
"Green stem and fair, flush'd circle I will lay
Along the roof, and listen here alway;
"For rose and tree, and every leafy growth
That toward the sky unfolds with spiry blowth,
"No purpose hath save this, to breathe a grace
O'er men, and in men's hearts to seek a place.
"Therefore, O poet, thou who gav'st to me
The homage of thy humble sympathy,
"No longer vest thy verse in rose-leaves frail:—
Let the heart's voice loud through thy pæan wail!"
* * * * *
Lo, at my feet the wind of autumn throws
A hundred turbulent blossoms of the rose,
Full of the voices of the sea and grove
And air, and full of hidden, murmured love,