What art thou? and what is this?" Each a mouth of pearls must strew! Many a mortal of these days Dares to pass our sacred ways; So for ever will I leave Such a taint, and soon unweave All the magic of the place." So saying, with a Spirit's glance ΤΟ WHAT can I do to drive away Remembrance from my eyes? for they have seen, Aye, an hour ago, my brilliant Queen! When every fair one that I saw was fair, When, howe'er poor or particolour'd things, And ever ready was to take her course Unintellectual, yet divine to me;— Divine, I say!—What sea-bird o'er the sea Winging along where the great water throes? How shall I do To get anew Those moulted feathers, and so mount once more Above, above The reach of fluttering Love, And make him cower lowly while I soar? Foisted into the canon law of love ;- Seize on me unawares, Where shall I learn to get my peace again? life; That monstrous region, whose dull rivers pour, Ever from their sordid urns unto the shore, Unown'd of any weedy-haired gods; Whose winds, all zephyrless, hold scourging rods, Iced in the great lakes, to afflict mankind; Whose rank-grown forests, frosted, black, and blind, Would fright a Dryad; whose harsh herbaged meads Make lean and lank the starv'd ox while he feeds; There bad flowers have no scent, birds no sweet song, And great unerring Nature once seems wrong. O, for some sunny spell To dissipate the shadows of this hell! Say they are gone, with the new dawning light Steps forth my lady bright! O, let me once more rest. My soul upon that dazzling breast! Let once again these aching arms be placed, The tender gaolers of thy waist! And let me feel that warm breath here and there To spread a rapture in my very hair, O, the sweetness of the pain! Enough! Enough! it is enough for me 26 HYMN TO APOLLO. GOD of the golden bow, Of the patient year, Where-where slept thine ire, When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath, Thy laurel, thy glory, The light of thy story, Or was I a worm-too low crawling, for death? O Delphic Apollo! The Thunderer grasp'd and grasp'd, The eagle's feathery mane For wrath became stiffen'd-the sound Went drowsily under, O why didst thou pity, and for a worm |