Part 8 (2/2)

I know that there is hope for celandines, And that a tree is merrier than it seems.

VIII.

I know the mighty hills have much to tell; And that they quake, at times, in undertone, And talk to stars, because so much alone And so unlov'd. I know that, in the dell, Flowers are betroth'd, and that a wedding-bell Rings in the breeze on which a moth has flown.

IX.

I know such things, because to loving hearts Nature is keen, and pleasures, long delay'd, Quicken the pulse, and turn a truant shade Into a sprite, equipp'd with all the darts That once were Cupid's; and the day departs, And sun and moon conjoin, as man with maid.

X.

The lover knows how grand a thing is love, How grand, how sweet a thing, and how divine More than the pouring out of choicest wine; More than the whiteness of the whitest dove; More than the glittering of the stars above; And such a love, O Love! is thine and mine.

XI.

To me the world, to-day, has grown so fair I dare not trust myself to think of it.

Visions of light around me seem to flit, And Phoebus loosens all his golden hair Right down the sky; and daisies turn and stare At things we see not with our human wit.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XII.

And here, beside me, there are mosses green In shelter'd nooks, and gnats in bright array, And lordly beetles out for holiday; And spiders small that work in silver sheen To make a kirtle for the Fairy Queen, That she may don it on the First of May.

XIII.

I hear, in thought, I hear the very words That Arethusa, turn'd into a brook, Spoke to Diana, when her leave she took Of all she lov'd--low-weeping as the birds Shrill'd out of tune, and all the frighten'd herds Scamper'd to death, in spite of pipe and crook.

XIV.

I know, to-day, why winds were made to sigh And why they hide themselves, and why they gloat In some old ruin! Mote confers with mote, And sh.e.l.l with sh.e.l.l; and corals live and die, And die and live, below the deep. And why?

To make a necklace for my lady's throat.

XV.

And yet the world, in all its varied girth, Lacks what we look for. There is something base In mere existence--something in the face Of men and women which accepts the earth, And all its havings, as its right of birth, But not its quittance, not its resting-place.

XVI.

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