Part 16 (2/2)

They shall be taught the songs the syrens know, The wave's lament, the west wind's psalmistry, The secrets of the south and of the snow, The wherewithal of day, and death, and night.

O men! O maidens! pray no prayer for me, But sing to me the songs of my delight.

XV.

Aye, sing to me the songs I love to hear, And let the sound thereof ascend to heaven.

And let the singers, with a voice of cheer, Announce my name to all the ends of earth; And let my servants, seventy times and seven, Re-shout the raptures of my Samian mirth!

XVI.

Let joy prevail, and Frenzy, like a flame, Seize all the souls of men for sake of me.

For I will have Contention put to shame, And all the hearts of all things comforted.

There are no laws but mine on land and sea, And men shall crown me when their kings are dead.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE WAKING OF THE LARK.

I.

O bonnie bird, that in the brake, exultant, dost prepare thee-- As poets do whose thoughts are true, for wings that will upbear thee-- Oh! tell me, tell me, bonnie bird, Canst thou not pipe of hope deferred?

Or canst thou sing of naught but Spring among the golden meadows?

II.

Methinks a bard (and thou art one) should suit his song to sorrow, And tell of pain, as well as gain, that waits us on the morrow; But thou art not a prophet, thou, If naught but joy can touch thee now; If, in thy heart, thou hast no vow that speaks of Nature's anguish.

III.

Oh! I have held my sorrows dear, and felt, tho' poor and slighted, The songs we love are those we hear when love is unrequited.

But thou art still the slave of dawn, And canst not sing till night be gone, Till o'er the pathway of the fawn the sunbeams s.h.i.+ne and quiver.

IV.

Thou art the minion of the sun that rises in his splendour, And canst not spare for Dian fair the songs that should attend her.

The moon, so sad and silver-pale, Is mistress of the nightingale; And thou wilt sing on hill and dale no ditties in the darkness.

V.

For Queen and King thou wilt not spare one note of thine outpouring; Thou art as free as breezes be on Nature's velvet flooring.

The daisy, with its hood undone, The gra.s.s, the sunlight, and the sun-- These are the joys, thou holy one, that pay thee for thy singing.

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