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“This woman's heart and soul and brain The bee's kiss, now!
Are mine as much as this gold chain Kiss me as if you entered gay
She bids me wear; which” (say again) My heart at some noonday,
“I choose to make by cherishing 15 | A bud that dares not disallow
A precious thing, or choose to fling The claim, so all is rendered up,
Over the boat-side, ring by ring.” And passively its shattered cup
And yet once more say . . . no word Over your head to sleep I bow.

more!
Since words are only words. Give o'er!

He sings Unless you call me, all the same,

What are we two?

20 Familiarly by my pet name,

I am a Jew, Which if the Three should hear you call,

And carry thee, farther than friends can And me reply to, would proclaim

pursue, At once our secret to them all.

To a feast of our tribe; Ask of me, too, command me, blame,- 25

Where they need thee to bribe Do, break down the partition-wall

The devil that blasts them unless he im'Twixt us, the daylight world beholds

bibe Curtained in dusk and splendid folds!

| Thy . . . Scatter the vision forever! And What's left but-all of me to take?

now, I am the Three's: prevent them, slake 30

| As of old, I am I, thou art thou!
As of old, Tam I, tho

70 · Your thirst! 'Tis said, the Arab sage, In practising with gems, can loose

Say again, what we are? Their subtle spirit in his crucel

The sprite of a star, And leave but ashes: so, sweet mage,

I lure thee above where the destinies bar Leave them my ashes when thy use 35

My plumes their full play
Sucks out my soul, thy heritage!

Till a ruddier ray
Than my pale one announce there is

withering away
He sings

Some ... Scatter the vision forever! And Past we glide, and past, and past!

now, What's that poor Agnese doing

As of old, I am I, thou art thou!
Where they make the shutters fast?
Gray Zanobi's just a-wooing

40

He muses
To his couch the purchased bride:
Past we glide!

Oh, which were best, to roam or rest?

The land's lap or the water's breast? 80 Past we glide, and past, and past!

To sleep on yellow millet-sheaves, Why's the Pucci Palace flaring

Or swim in lucid shallows just Like a beacon to the blast?

Eluding water-lily leaves,

45 Guests by hundreds, not one caring

An inch from Death's black fingers, If the dear host's neck were wried:

thrust Past we glide!

To lock you, whom release he must; 85

Which life were best on summer eves?
She sings

He speaks, musing
The moth's kiss, first!
Kiss me as if you made believe

Lie back; could thought of mine improve 50

you? You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed

| From this shoulder let there spring Its petals up; so, here and there

A wing; from this, another wing; You brush it, till I grow aware

Wings, not legs and feet, shall move you! Who wants me, and wide ope I burst. 55

| Snow-white must they spring, to blend 91

With your flesh, but I intend | They shall deepen to the end,

1 crucible.

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Broa der, into burning gold,

Of the staidness and reserve, Till both wings crescent-wise enfold 95 | And formal lines without a curve, Your perfect self, from 'neath your feet In the same child's playing-face? To o'er your head, where, lo, they meet No two windows look one way 135 As if a million sword-blades hurled

O'er the small sea-water thread Defiance from you to the world!

Below them. Ah, the autumn day

I, passing, saw you overhead! Rescue me thou, the only real!

First, out a cloud of curtain blew, And scare away this mad ideal

Then a sweet cry, and last came you- 140 That came, nor motions to depart! To catch your lory? that must needs Thanks! Now, stay ever as thou art! Escape just then, of all times then,

To peck a tall plant's fleecy seeds,
Still he muses

And make me happiest of men.
What if the Three should catch at last

I scarce could breathe to see you reach 145 Thy serenader? While there's cast 105

So far back o'er the balcony . Paul's 'cloak about my head, and fast

To catch him ere he climbed too high Gian pinions me, Himself has passed

Above you in the Smyrna peach, His stylet? through my back; I reel;

That quick the round smooth cord of And ... is it thou I feel?

gold,

This coiled hair on your head, unrolled, 150 They trail me, these three godless knaves,

Fell down you like a gorgeous snake Past every church that saints and saves,

The Roman girls were wont, of old, Nor stop till, where the cold sea raves

When Rome there was, for coolness' sake

112 By Lido's wet accursèd graves,

To let lie curling o'er their bosoms. They scoop mine, roll me to its brink,

Dear lory, may his beak retain 155

Ever its delicate rose stain And ... on thy breast I sink!

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As if the wounded lotus-blossoms
She replies, musing

Had marked their thief to know again! Dip your arm o'er the boat-side, elbow- Stay longer vet, for others' sake deep,

Than mine! What should your chamber do? As I do: thus: were death so unlike sleep, -With all its rarities that ache jól Caught this way? Death's to fear from In silence while day lasts, but wake flame or steel,

At night-time and their life renew, Or poison doubtless; but from water

Suspended just to pleasure you 164 feel!

Who brought against their will together Go find the bottom! Would you stay me? These objects, and, while day lasts, weave There!

Around them such a magic tether Now pluck a great blade of that ribbon

That dumb they look: your harp, believe, grass

With all the sensitive tight strings To plait in where the foolish jewel was, Which dare not speak, now to itself I flung away: since you have praised my ! Breathes slumberously, as if some elf hair,

Went in and out the chords, his wings 'Tis proper to be choice in what I wear. Make murmur wheresoe'er they graze,

As an angel may, between the maze
He speaks
Of midnight palace-pillars, on

175 Row home? must we row home? Too surely And on, to sow God's plagues, have gone Know I where its front's demurely 126

Through guilty glorious Babylon. Over the Giudecca piled;

And while such murmurs flow, the nymph Window just with window mating,

Bends o'er the harp-top from her shell Door on door exactly waiting,

As the dry limpet for the lymph3 180 All's the set face of a child:

Come with a tune he knows so well. But behind it, where's a trace

And how your statues' hearts must swell! I stiletto. : parrot.

spring.

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ING IN EUROPE

And how your pictures must descend

He speaks To see each other, friend with friend!

It was ordained to be so, sweet !-and Oh, could you take them by surprise, 185

best You'd find Schidone's eager Duke

Comes now, beneath thine eyes, upon thy Doing the quaintest courtesies

breast. To that prim saint by Haste-thee-Luke!

Still kiss me! Care not for the cowards! And, deeper into her rock den,

Care Bold Castelfranco's Magdalen

Only to put aside thy beauteous hair You'd find retreated from the ken

My blood will hurt! The Three, I do not Of that robed counsel-keeping Serl

scorn As if the Tizian thinks of her,

To death, because they never lived: And is not, rather, gravely bent

but I

230 On seeing for himself what toys

195 | Have lived indeed, and so—(yet one more Are these, his progeny invent,

kiss)--can die!
What litter now the board employs
Whereon he signed a document
That got him murdered! Each enjoys

A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL
Its night so well, you cannot break 200 SHORTLY AFTER THE REVIVAL OF LEARN-
The sport up, so, indeed must make
More stay with me, for others' sake.

Let us begin and carry up this corpse, She speaks

Singing together.

Leave we the common crofts,' the vulgar To-morrow, if a harp-string, say,

thorpes 2 Is used to tie the jasmine back That overfloods my room with sweets, 205

Each in its tether

Sleeping safe on the bosom of the plain, 5 Contrive your Zorzi somehow meets

Cared-for till cock-crow: My Zanze! If the ribbon's black,

Look out if yonder be not day again The Three are watching: keep away!

Rimming the rock-row!

That's the appropriate country; there, Your gondola-let Zorzi wreathe

men's thought, A mesh of water-weeds about

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Rarer, intenser,

10 Its prow, as if he unaware

Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought, Had struck some quay or bridge-foot stair!

Chafes in the censer. That I may throw a paper out

Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and As you and he go underneath.

Crop;
There's Zanze's vigilant taper; safe are

Seek we sepulture
On a tall mountain, citied to the top, 15

215 Only one minute more to-night with me?

Crowded with culture! Resume your past self of a month ago!

All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels; Be you the bashful gallant, I will be

Clouds overcome 3 it; The lady with the colder breast than snow.

No! yonder sparkle is the citadel's Now bow you, as becomes, nor touch my

Circling its summit.

20 hand

Thither our path lies; wind we up the

220 More than I touch yours when I step to

heights; land,

Wait ye the warning? And say, “All thanks, Siora!” —

Our low life was the level's and the night's; Heart to heart

He's for the morning. And lips to lips! Yet once more, ere we

Step to a tune, square chests, erect each head,

25 part, Clasp me and make me thine, as mine

'Ware the beholders! thou art!

This is our master, famous, calm and dead,

224 (He is surprised, and stabbed.

Borne on our shoulders.

we.

i small farm enclosures. 1 Sir.

i overshadow, conceal.

? villages.

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Sleep, crop and herd! sleep, darkling When he had gathered all books had to thorpe and croft,

give! Safe from the weather!

30 Sooner, he spurned it. He, whom we convoy to his grave aloft, Image the whole, then execute the partsSinging together,

Fancy the fabric

70 He was a man born with thy face and Quite, ere you build, ere steel strike fire throat,

from quartz, Lyric Apollo!

Ere mortar dab brick! Long he lived nameless: how should Spring take note

35 (Here's the town-gate reached: there's the Winter would follow?

market-place Till lo, the little touch, and youth was gone! Gaping before us.) Cramped and diminished,

Yea, this in him was the peculiar grace 75 Moaned he, “New measures, other feet (Hearten our chorus!) anon!

That before living he'd learn how to My dance is finished”?

liveNo, that's the world's way: (keep the No end to learning: mountain-side,

Earn the means first—God surely will Make for the city!)

contrive He knew the signal, and stepped on with Use for our earning. pride

Others mistrust and say, “But time Over men's pity;

escapes: Left play for work, and grappled with Live now or never!” the world

45 | He said, “What's time? Leave Now for Bent on escaping:

dogs and apes! “What's in the scroll,” quoth he, “thou Man has Forever.” keepest furled?

Back to his book then: deeper drooped Show me their shaping,

his head: Theirs who most studied man, the bard I Calculus ' racked him: · and sage,

Leaden before, his eyes grew dross of Give!”—So, he gowned him, 50 lead: Straight got by heart that book to its | Tussis ? attacked him. last page:

“Now, master, take a little rest!”-not Learned, we found him.

he! Yea, but we found him bald too, eyes (Caution redoubled,

00 like lead,

Step two abreast, the way winds narAccents uncertain:

rowly!) “Time to taste life,” another would have | Not a whit troubled, said,

Back to his studies, fresher than at first, “Up with the curtain!"

Fierce as a dragon This man said rather, “Actual life comes He (soul-hydroptic 3 'with a sacred next?

thirst)

05 Patience a moment!

Sucked at the flagon. Grant I have mastered learning's crabbed Oh, if we draw a circle premature, text,

Heedless of far gain, Still there's the comment.

Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure Let me know all! Prate not of most or Bad is our bargain!

100 least,

Was it not great? did not he throw on Painful or easy!

God, Even to the crumbs I'd fain eat up the (He loves the burthen)feast,

God's task to make the heavenly period Ay, nor feel queasy."

Perfect the earthen? Oh, such a life as he resolved to live, 65

When he had learned it,

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1 gall stones.

' a cough. 3 thirsty, as in the disease of dropsy.

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Did not he magnify the mind, show Lofty designs must close in like effects: 145 clear

Loftily lying,
Just what it all meant?

Leave him-still loftier than the world He would not discount life, as fools do

suspects, • here,

Living and dying.
Paid by instalment.
He ventured neck or nothing-heaven's

success
Found, or earth's failure:

THE BISHOP ORDERS HIS TOMB “Wilt thou trust death or not?" He AT SAINT PRAXED'S CHURCH

answered “Yes! Hence with life's pale lure!”

ROME, 15That low man seeks a little thing to do, Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity! Sees it and does it:

Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping This high man, with a great thing to pur back? sue,

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Nephews--sons mine ... ah God, I know Dies ere he knows it.

not! WellThat low man goes on adding one to She, men would have to be your mother one,

once, His hundred's soon hit:

Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was! 5 This high man, aiming at a million, What's done is done, and she is dead beMisses an unit.

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side, That, has the world here should he need Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since, the next,

And as she died so must we die ourselves, Let the world mind him!

And thence ye may perceive the world's This, throws himself on God, and un a dream. perplexed

Life, how and what is it? As here I lie 10 Seeking shall find him.

In this state-chamber, dying by degrees, So, with the throttling hands of death Hours and long hours in the dead night, at strife,

I ask Ground he at grammar;

“Do I live, am I dead?” Peace, peace Still, through the rattle, parts of speech seems all. were rife:

Saint Praxed's ever was the church for While he could stammer

peace; He settled Hoti's business—let it be!- | And so, about this tomb of mine. I Properly based Oun

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I fought

15 Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De, With tooth and nail to save my niche, Dead' from the waist down.

ye know: Well, here's the platform, here's the proper -Old Gandolf cozened3 me, despite my place:

care; Hail to your purlieus, 2

Shrewd was that snatch from out the All ye highfliers of the feathered race, 135 corner South Swallows and curlews!

He graced his carrion with, God curse the Here's the top-peak; the multitude below same! Live, for they can, there:

Yet still my niche is not so cramped but This man decided not to Live but Know, thence

20 Bury this man there?

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One sees the pulpit o' the epistle-side, Here-here's his place, where meteors And somewhat of the choir, those silent shoot, clouds form,

seats, Lightnings are loosened,

And up into the aëry dome where live Stars come and go! Let joy break with The angels, and a sunbeam's sure to lurk: the storm,

And I shall fill my slab of basalt there, 25 Peace let the dew send!

And 'neath my tabernacle take my rest, paralyzed.

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cheated.

2 haunts.

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