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 forever.
They glide upon their endless way, For ever calm, for ever bright; No blind hurry, no delay,
Mark the Daughters of the Night: They follow in the track of Day, In divine delight.
Shine on, sweet orbed Souls for aye, For ever calm, for ever bright: We ask not whither lies your way,
Nor whence ye came, nor what your light. Be-still a dream throughout the day,
A blessing through the night.
Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat As precious as the gods do eat, Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning :
If these delights thy mind may move, Come live with me and be my Love.
THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES
See the Kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves-one-two-and three
From the lofty elder tree!
Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning bright and fair, Eddying round and round they sink Softly, slowly one might think From the motions that are made, Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Fairy hither tending, To this lower world descending, Each invisible and mute, In his wavering parachute.
-But the Kitten, how she starts, Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts ! First at one, and then its fellow, Just as light and just as yellow; There are many now-now one- Now they stop and there are none : What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap half-way
Now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then
Has it in her power again :
Now she works with three or four, Like an Indian conjuror; Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart.
Were her antics played in the eye Of a thousand standers-by, Clapping hands with shouts and stare, What would little Tabby care
For the plaudits of the crowd?
Over happy to be proud,
Over wealthy in the treasure
Of her own exceeding pleasure!
THE FERRYMAN, VENUS, AND CUPID
As I a fare had lately past, And thought that side to ply, I heard one, as it were, in haste, A boat! a boat! to cry; Which as I was about to bring,
And came to view my fraught,
Thought I, what more than heavenly thing
Hath fortune hither brought?
She, seeing mine eyes still on her were,
Soon, smilingly, quoth she,
Sirrah, look to your rudder there,
Why look'st thou thus at me?
And nimbly stepp'd into my boat With her a little lad,
Naked and blind, yet did I note That bow and shafts he had,
And two wings to his shoulders fixt, Which stood like little sails,
With far more various colours mixt Than be your peacocks' tails! I seeing this little dapper elf Such arms as these to bear, Quoth I, thus softly to myself, What strange things have we here? I never saw the like, thought I, 'Tis more than strange to me, To have a child have wings to fly, And yet want eyes to see. Sure this is some devised toy, Or it transform'd hath been,
For such a thing, half bird, half boy,
I think was never seen.
And in my boat I turn'd about,
And wistly view'd the lad,
And clearly I saw his eyes were out,
Though bow and shafts he had. As wistly she did me behold, How lik'st thou him? quoth she.
Why, well, quoth I, the better should, Had he but eyes to see.
How say'st thou, honest friend, quoth she, Wilt thou a 'prentice take?
I think, in time, though blind he be,
A ferryman he'll make.
To guide my passage-boat, quoth I,
His fine hands were not made;
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