Thou vainly curious mind which wouldest guess With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path, A refuge in the cavern of gray death? O heart, and mind, and thoughts, what thing do you As the wild air stirs and sways The tree-swung cradle of a child, So the breath of these rude days Rocks the year:-be calm and mild, 1820. ΙΟ 5 ΙΟ 15 Trembling hours,-she will arise IV. January gray is here, Like a sexton by her grave; March with grief doth howl and rave, January 1, 1821. 20 TIME. UNFATHOMABLE Sea! whose waves are years, Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, Who shall put forth on thee, TO NIGHT. I. SWIFTLY walk o'er the western wave, Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where all the long and lone daylight, 5 IO 1821. Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, II. Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand- III. When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, 5 ΙΟ 15 20 25 39 My faint spirit was sitting in the light Of thy looks, my love; It panted for thee like the hind at noon For the brooks, my love. Thy barb whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's flight Bore thee far from me; My heart, for my weak feet were weary soon, Did companion thee. 5 II. Ah! fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed, Or the death they bear, The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove With the wings of care; In the battle, in the darkness, in the need, Shall mine cling to thee, Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love, It may bring to thee. IO 15 1821. TO EMILIA VIVIANI. MADONNA, wherefore hast thou sent to me Embleming love and health, which never yet Alas, and they are wet! Is it with thy kisses or thy tears? For never rain or dew Such fragrance drew From plant or flower-the very doubt endears My sadness ever new, The sighs I breathe, the tears I shed for thee. Send the stars light, but send not love to me, Health like a heap of embers soon to fade. 5 ΙΟ |