Volume I Part 11 (1/2)

So am I in thy sole, sweet glance Pressed with a weight of utterance; Lovingly all my leaves unfold, And gleam to the beams of thirsty gold.

At eve I droop, for then the swell Of feeling falters forth farewell; - At midnight I am dreaming deep, Of what has been, in blissful sleep.

When--ah! when will love's own fight Wed me alike thro' day and night, When will the stars with their linking charms Wake us in each other's arms?

SONG

Thou to me art such a spring As the Arab seeks at eve, Thirsty from the s.h.i.+ning sands; There to bathe his face and hands, While the sun is taking leave, And dewy sleep is a delicious thing.

Thou to me art such a dream As he dreams upon the gra.s.s, While the bubbling coolness near Makes sweet music in his ear; And the stars that slowly pa.s.s In solitary grandeur o'er him gleam.

Thou to me art such a dawn As the dawn whose ruddy kiss Wakes him to his darling steed; And again the desert speed, And again the desert bliss, Lightens thro' his veins, and he is gone!

ANTIGONE

The buried voice bespake Antigone.

'O sister! couldst thou know, as thou wilt know, The bliss above, the reverence below, Enkindled by thy sacrifice for me; Thou wouldst at once with holy ecstasy Give thy warm limbs into the yearning earth.

Sleep, Sister! for Elysium's dawning birth, - And faith will fill thee with what is to be!

Sleep, for the G.o.ds are watching over thee!

Thy dream will steer thee to perform their will, As silently their influence they instil.

O Sister! in the sweetness of thy prime, Thy hand has plucked the bitter flower of death; But this will dower thee with Elysian breath, That fade into a never-fading clime.

Dear to the G.o.ds are those that do like thee A solemn duty! for the tyranny Of kings is feeble to the soul that dares Defy them to fulfil its sacred cares: And weak against a mighty will are men.

O, Torch between two brothers! in whose gleam Our slaughtered House doth s.h.i.+ne as one again, Tho' severed by the sword; now may thy dream Kindle desire in thee for us, and thou, Forgetting not thy lover and his vow, Leaving no human memory forgot, Shalt cross, not unattended, the dark stream Which runs by thee in sleep and ripples not.

The large stars glitter thro' the anxious night, And the deep sky broods low to look at thee: The air is hush'd and dark o'er land and sea, And all is waiting for the morrow light: So do thy kindred spirits wait for thee.

O Sister! soft as on the downward rill, Will those first daybeams from the distant hill Fall on the smoothness of thy placid brow, Like this calm sweetness breathing thro' me now: And when the fated sounds shall wake thine eyes, Wilt thou, confiding in the supreme will, In all thy maiden steadfastness arise, Firm to obey and earnest to fulfil; Remembering the night thou didst not sleep, And this same brooding sky beheld thee creep, Defiant of unnatural decree, To where I lay upon the outcast land; Before the iron gates upon the plain; A wretched, graveless ghost, whose wailing chill Came to thy darkened door imploring thee; Yearning for burial like my brother slain; - And all was dared for love and piety!

This thought will nerve again thy virgin hand To serve its purpose and its destiny.'

She woke, they led her forth, and all was still.

Swathed round in mist and crown'd with cloud, O Mountain! hid from peak to base - Caught up into the heavens and clasped In white ethereal arms that make Thy mystery of size sublime!

What eye or thought can measure now Thy grand dilating loftiness!

What giant crest dispute with thee Supremacy of air and sky!

What fabled height with thee compare!