Volume II Part 30 (1/2)

XII.

That tear fell not on Thee, Beloved, yet thou stirrest in thy slumber!

THOU, stirring not for glad sounds out of number Which through the vibratory palm-trees run From summer-wind and bird, So quickly hast thou heard A tear fall silently?

Wak'st thou, O loving One?--

FOOTNOTES:

[7] It is a Jewish tradition that Moses died of the kisses of G.o.d's lips.

_AN ISLAND._

All goeth but G.o.ddis will.--OLD POET.

I.

My dream is of an island-place Which distant seas keep lonely, A little island on whose face The stars are watchers only: Those bright still stars! they need not seem Brighter or stiller in my dream.

II.

An island full of hills and dells, All rumpled and uneven With green recesses, sudden swells, And odorous valleys driven So deep and straight that always there The wind is cradled to soft air.

III.

Hills running up to heaven for light Through woods that half-way ran, As if the wild earth mimicked right The wilder heart of man: Only it shall be greener far And gladder than hearts ever are.

IV.

More like, perhaps, that mountain piece Of Dante's paradise, Disrupt to an hundred hills like these, In falling from the skies; Bringing within it, all the roots Of heavenly trees and flowers and fruits:

V.

For--saving where the grey rocks strike Their javelins up the azure, Or where deep fissures miser-like h.o.a.rd up some fountain treasure, (And e'en in them, stoop down and hear, Leaf sounds with water in your ear,--)

VI.

The place is all awave with trees, Limes, myrtles purple-beaded, Acacias having drunk the lees Of the night-dew, faint-headed, And wan grey olive-woods which seem The fittest foliage for a dream.

VII.

Trees, trees on all sides! they combine Their plumy shades to throw, Through whose clear fruit and blossom fine Whene'er the sun may go, The ground beneath he deeply stains, As pa.s.sing through cathedral panes.

VIII.

But little needs this earth of ours That s.h.i.+ning from above her, When many Pleiades of flowers (Not one lost) star her over, The rays of their unnumbered hues Being all refracted by the dews.

IX.

Wide-petalled plants that boldly drink The Amreeta of the sky, Shut bells that dull with rapture sink, And lolling buds, half shy; I cannot count them, but between Is room for gra.s.s and mosses green,