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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
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,
60 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? 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
To a feast of our tribe;
Where they need thee to bribe
The devil that blasts them unless he imDo, break down the partition-wall
bibe 'Twixt us, the daylight world beholds 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!
70 Your thirst! 'Tis said, the Arab sage, In practising with gems, can loose
Say again, what we are?
The sprite of a star,
I lure thee above where the destinies bar Leave them my ashes when thy use
My plumes their full play
75 Sucks out my soul, thy heritage!
Than my pale one announce there is
withering away He sings
Some ... Scatter the vision forever! And
As of old, I am I, thou art thou!
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,
thrust If the dear host's neck were wried:
85 Past we glide!
To lock you, whom release he must;
Which life were best on summer eves? She sings
He speaks, musing The moth's kiss, first!
Lie back; could thought of mine improve Kiss me as if you made believe
50 You were not sure, this
you? eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed
From this shoulder let there spring
A wing; from this, another wing;
Wings, not legs and feet, shall move you! Who wants me, and wide ope I burst.
Snow-white must they spring, to blend 91 55
With your flesh, but I intend 1 crucible.
They shall deepen to the end,
Broa der, into burning gold,
Of the staidness and reserve, Till both wings crescent-wise enfold
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 loryề 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,
And make me happiest of men.
I scarce could breathe to see you reach 145 Thy serenader? While there's cast
So far back o'er the balcony
105 Paul's cloak about my head, and fast
To catch him ere he climbed too high
Above you in the Smyrna peach,
That quick the round smooth cord of And . .. is it thou I feel?
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 By Lido's wet accursed graves,
To let lie curling o'er their bosoms.
155 They scoop mine, roll me to its brink,
Dear lory, may his beak retain And
Ever its delicate rose stain .. on thy breast I sink!
As if the wounded lotus-blossoms
Had marked their thief to know again! Dip your arm o'er the boat-side, elbow- Stay longer yet, 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 IÓI 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 170 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
Of midnight palace-pillars, on 175
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 All's the set face of a child:
Come with a tune he knows so well.
130 But behind it, where's a trace
And how your statues' hearts must swell! 1 stiletto. parrot.
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 Ser? As if the Tizian thinks of her,
To death, because they never lived: And is not, rather, gravely bent
230 On seeing for himself what toys 195
Have lived indeed, and so—(yet one more Are these, his progeny invent,
A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL Its night so well, you cannot break
SHORTLY AFTER THE REVIVAL OF LEARNThe sport up, so, indeed must make
ING IN EUROPE More stay with me, for others' sake.
Let us begin and carry up this corpse, She speaks
Singing together. To-morrow, if a harp-string, say,
Leave we the common crofts,' the vulgar
thorpes 2 Is used to tie the jasmine back
Each in its tether That overfloods my room with sweets, 205
Sleeping safe on the bosom of the plain, 5 Contrive your Zorzi somehow meets
Cared-for till cock-crow:
Look out if yonder be not day again
Rimming the rock-row!
That's the appropriate country; there, Your gondola-let Zorzi wreathe
men's thought, A mesh of water-weeds about
Rarer, intenser, Its prow, as if he unaware
, Had struck some quay or bridge-foot stair! Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought,
Chafes in the censer. That I may throw a paper out
Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and you and he go underneath.
crop; There's Zanze's vigilant taper; safe are
Seek we sepulture
Crowded with culture!
All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels;
Clouds overcome 3 it;
No! yonder sparkle is the citadel's Now bow you, as becomes, nor touch my
Circling its summit. hand
Thither our path lies; wind we up the More than I touch yours when I step to
Wait ye the warning? And say, "All thanks, Siora!"
Our low life was the level's and the night's;
He's for the morning.
Heart to heart And lips to lips! Yet once more, ere we
Step to a tune, square chests, erect each head,
'Ware the beholders! Clasp me and make me thine, as mine thou art!
This is our master, famous, calm and dead,
224 (He is surprised, and stabbed.
Borne on our shoulders.
? villages. I overshadow, conceal.
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
(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.
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,
85 Theirs who most studied man, the bard Calculus ! racked him:
Leaden before, his eyes grew dross of Give!”—So, he gowned him, 50
lead: Straight got by heart that book to its Tussis a attacked him.
“Now, master, take a little rest!”—not Learned, we found him.
he! Yea, but we found him bald too, eyes (Caution redoubled, like lead,
Step two abreast, the way winds narAccents uncertain:
rowly!) “Time to taste life,” another would have Not a whit troubled, said,
55 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 sacred next?
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! 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
1 gall stones.
: a cough. When he had learned it,
3 thirsty, as in the disease of dropsy.
Did not he magnify the mind, show Lofty designs must close in like effects: 145 clear
105 Loftily lying, Just what it all meant?
Leave him-still loftier than the world He would not discount life, as fools do
Living and dying.
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
115 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! This high man, aiming at a million, What's done is done, and she is dead be. Misses an unit.
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 Oun130 fought
15 Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De, With tooth and nail to save my niche,
Dead from the waist down.
-old Gandolf cozened me, despite my place:
care; Hail to your purlieus,
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 Bury this man there?
140 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.