LOVE HOUSELESS.

I.

THE cold earth slept below;
Above, the cold sky shone;
And all around,

With a chilling sound,

From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.

2.

The wintry hedge was black;
The green grass was not seen;
The birds did rest

On the bare thorn's breast,

Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.

3.

Thine eyes glowed in the glare
Of the moon's dying light.

As a fen-fire's beam

On a sluggish stream

Gleams dimly, so the moon shone there;

And it yellowed the strings of thy tangled hair, That shook in the wind of night.

4.

The moon made thy lips pale, beloved;

The wind made thy bosom chill;

The night did shed

On thy dear head

Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie

Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.

P. B. Shelley.

264

A PARTING IN DREAMLAND.

A PARTING IN DREAMLAND.

Αδιστος ἀφεμένων.

AMONG the poppies by the well
Of Lethe, where I weary lay,
Upon my soul a slumber fell,

Making the light of summer grey;
Nepenthé too I ate of him,

Whose eyes were eyes of Seraphim.

But ere I slept, while still it seemed
That sleep was a delicious thing,
The splendour of a vision streamed

Above the poppy-heads that fling
Their drowsy juice and drowsy scent
Through blood and brain with ravishment.

For there He stood whose eyes are eyes
Of Seraphim: and lo! his lips

Seemed quivering with the winds of sighs;
And all his forehead in eclipse

Burned not, but showered well-heads of tears
Amid the deserts of dead years.

Yea, and his heart fed living fire;

And both his cheeks like ashes wan

Were cinders of a spent desire

For lack of food to feed upon:

Therewith the Spirit smiled and spake

Words sweet as breath from buds that break:

"I go; take now, dear soul, thy rest; Slumber beneath the poppy-flowers! The mole within her winter nest

Be not so folded from sad hours As thou, who of the thought of me Eatest Nepenthé wearily.

"I go; but when thy dream is o'er,

When thou awakest cold perchance,
And haply from sleep's golden door
Gazest upon the drear expanse
Of barren years and vacant life
And long monotony of strife,

"Think then of me: though hence I go;

Though I am withered, worn, and old,
With waiting, praying, weeping through
Long days that shiver in the cold
Of thy scant love-yet will I come,
And, when thou callest, bear thee home."

He spake; and fire with sudden pain

Flashed in his face.

Then slumber fell

Upon my lids like summer rain;

And through faint dreams the terrible Flame of that head, of those wild eyes,

Died; and my sleep was Paradise.

John Addington Symonds.

266

LOVED ONCE.

LOVED ONCE.

I CLASSED, appraising once,

Earth's lamentable sounds; the "well-a-day,"

The jarring "yea" and "nay,"

The fall of kisses on unanswering clay,

The sobbed "farewell," the "welcome" mournfuller;But all did leaven the air

With a less bitter leaven of sure despair,

Than these words-"I loved once."

And who saith, "I loved once?"

Not angels, whose clear eyes love, love foresee,

Love through eternity!

Who, by to love, do apprehend to be.

Not God, called Love, his noble crown-name, casting

A light too broad for blasting!

The Great God, changing not from everlasting,

Saith never, "I loved once."

Oh, never is "Loved once."

Thy word, thou Victim-Christ, misprized friend?

Thy cross and curse may rend;

But, having loved, Thou lovest to the end!
It is man's saying-man's! Too weak to move
One sphered star above,

Man desecrates the eternal God-word, love,
With his "no more," and "once."

How say ye, "We loved once," Blasphemers? Is your earth not cold enow,

Mourners, without that snow?

Ah, friends! and would ye wrong each other so?
And could ye say of some, whose love is known,

Whose prayers have met your own,

Whose tears have fallen for you, whose smiles have shone,

Such words, "We loved them once?"

Could ye "We loved her once"

Say calm of me, sweet friends, when out of sight?

When hearts of better right

Stand in between me and your happy light?

And when, as flowers kept too long in shade,

Ye find my colours fade,

And all that is not love in me, decayed?
Such words, "Ye loved me once!"

Could ye "We loved her once"

Say cold of me, when further put away
In earth's sepulchral clay?

When mute the lips which deprecate to day?—
Not so! not then-least then! When life is shriven,
And death's full joy is given;

Of those who sit and love you up in heaven

Say not, "We loved them once."

Say never, ye loved once!

God is too near above, the grave beneath,
And all our moments breathe

Too quick in mysteries of life and death,
For such a word. The eternities avenge
Affections light of range—

There comes no change to justify that change,
Whatever comes-loved once!