By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers ;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCY.
AH, can thee, wight,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full, And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.
I met a Lady in the meads, Full beautiful, fairy's child; Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild..
I set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long; For sideways would she lean, and sing A fairy's song.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone: She look'd at me as she did love, And made sweet moan.
She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew; And sure in language strange she said, I love thee true.
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed and sighèd deep, And there I shut her wild sad eyesSo kiss'd to sleep.
And there we slumber'd on the moss, And there I dream'd, ah woe betide, The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill-side.
I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cried "La belle Dame sans mercy Hath thee in thrall!"
I saw their starved lips in the gloom With horrid warning gapèd wide, And I awoke and found me here, On the cold hill-side.
And this is why I sojourn here Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
URPRISED by joy-impatient as the Wind I turn'd to share the transport-oh! with
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recall'd thee to my mind- But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss?—That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
HILD, amidst the flowers at play, While the red light fades away; Mother, with thine earnest eye Ever following silently; Father, by the breeze of eve Call'd thy harvest work to leave; Pray! ere yet the dark hours be, Lift the heart and bend the knee!
Traveller, in the stranger's land, Far from thine own household band; Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone ; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath not leave to dwell; Sailor, on the darkening sea; Lift the heart and bend the knee!
Warrior, that from battle won Breathest now at set of sun; Woman, o'er the lowly slain Weeping on the burial plain; Ye that triumph, ye that sigh, Kindred by one holy tie, Heaven's first star alike ye see,- Lift the heart and bend the knee! FELICIA HEMANS.
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