And I see nature through her death-deep eyes, 'Abandon all such hopes of Meropè,' Murmured the Great Unmoved: 'her truth was strong, 'T was a weak moment with us both. Next morn It craved the like but I, for "Nature" calling, Passed on. It drooped then died, and rotted soon, And living things, more highly organized, With quick eyes and fine horns, reproached my hand Which had delayed their birth. What wrong we do By interfering with life's balanced plan! Do nothing wait - and all that must come, comes !' Silent awhile they stood. Orion sighed, 'I know thy words are wise—' and went his way. SUNRISE. FROM BOOK III., CANTO II. O'ER meadows green or solitary lawn, When birds appear earth's sole inhabitants, The long clear shadows of the morning differ From those of eve, which are more soft and vague, Touched with old day-dreams and a mellowed grief. The lights of morning, even as her shades, Are architectural, and pre-eminent In quiet freshness, midst the pause that holds Prelusive energies. All life awakes, Morn comes at first with white uncertain light; Seen through gray mist: the mist clears off; the sky THE PHILOSOPHY OF AKINETOS. FROM BOOK III., CANTO III. SLOW tow'rds his cave the Great Unmoved repaired, And, with his back against the rock, sat down Outside, half-smiling in the pleasant air; And in the lonely silence of the place He thus, at length, discoursed unto himself: 'Orion, ever active and at work, Honest and skilful, not to be surpassed, Drew misery on himself and those he loved; Wrought his companion's death, — and now hath found, With the world's builder. He from wall to beam, Until the small round burst, and pale he falls. While Time runs shouting to Oblivion HAJARLIS. A tragic ballad, set to an old Arabian air. I LOVED Hajarlis and was loved Both children of the Desert, we; And in my heart she also shone, A Sheik unto Hajarlis came, And said, 'Thy beauty fires my dreams! Young Ornab spurn - fly to my tent So shalt thou walk in golden beams.' But from the Sheik my maiden turned, And I was fastened to a tree. Nor bread, nor water, had she there; The simoom came with sullen glare! Breathed Desert-mysteries through my tree! I only heard the starving sighs From that pit's mouth unceasingly. Day after day-night after night- For my sake, in my wild despair. Calm strode the Sheik - looked down the pit, Thy last moans will thy lover hear, While thy slow torments feed my scorn.' They spared me that I still might know Her thirst and frenzy - till at last The pit was silent! - and I felt Her life and mine were with the past! A friend, that night, cut through my bonds: The Sheik amidst his camels slept ; We fired his tent, and drove them in And then with joy I screamed and wept. And cried, 'A spirit comes arrayed, From that dark pit, in golden beams! Thy slaves are fled — thy camels mad Hajarlis once more fires thy dreams!' The camels blindly trod him down, While still we drove them o'er his bed; Then with a stone I beat his breast, As I would smite him ten times dead! I dragged him far out on the sands And vultures came - a screaming shoal! And while they fanged and flapped, I prayed Great Allah to destroy his soul! And day and night again I sat Above that pit, and thought I heard Hajarlis' moans and cried 'my love!' With heart still breaking at each word. Is it the night-breeze in my ear, That woos me like a fanning dove? Is it herself? O, desert-sands, Enshroud me ever with thy love! THE LAUREL-SEED. "Marmora findit." A DESPOT gazed on sun-set clouds, Year upon year, all night and day, They toiled, they died - and were replaced; At length, a marble fabric rose With cloud-like domes and turrets graced. |