IN THE GYMNASIUM.
I LEAN against a pillar in the sun,
The sandals loose on mine arrested feet,
While from their paths orbicular the fleet
Slim racers drop like stars. O loveliest one,
Lender of sixfold wings the while I run,
Whose tortoise-lyre saves yet for me its sweet
Cyllenic suasions old, to thy dim seat
Glory and grace! the votive rites are done.
Thy sole rememberer honey hath, nor palm,
Libation none, nor lamb to lead to thee,
Ah, Maia’s son! once god, and once aye-living.
Here stood thy shrine: here chants my heart in calm
Sad as the centralmost weird wave’s at sea,
Hermes! thy last June pæan and thanksgiving.
A SALUTATION.
HIGH-HEARTED Surrey! I do love your ways,
Venturous, frank, romantic, vehement,
All with inviolate honor sealed and blent,
To the axe-edge that cleft your soldier-bays:
I love your youth, your friendships, whims, and frays;
Your strict, sweet verse, with its imperious bent,
Heard as in dreams from some old harper’s tent,
And stirring in the listener’s brain for days.
Good father-poet! if to-night there be
At Framlingham none save the north-wind’s sighs,
No guard but moonlight’s crossed and trailing spears,
Smile yet upon the pilgrim named like me,
Close at your gates, whose fond and weary eyes
Sought not one other down three hundred years!
AT A SYMPHONY.
