And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free;

And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand;

Hither, come hither and see;

And the rainbow hangs on the poising wave,
And sweet is the color of cove and cave,
And sweet shall vour welcome be :

O hither, come hither, and be our lords
For merry brides are we :

We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words:

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
With pleasure and love and jubilee :
O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
When the sharp clear twang of the golden

chords

Runs up the ridged sea.

Who can light on as happy a shore
All the world o'er, all the world o'er?
Whither away? listen and stay: mariner,
mariner, fly no more.

THE DESERTED HOUSE.

I.

LIFE and Thought have gone away
Side by side,

Leaving door and windows wide : Careless tenants they !

2.

All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.

3.

Close the door, the shutters close,
Or thro' the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.

4.

Come away: no more of mirth

Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth, And shall fall again to ground.

5.

Come away for Life and Thought
Here no longer dwell;

But in a city glorious

A great and distant city have bought
A mansion incorruptible.

Would they could have stayed with us!

THE DYING SWAN.

I.

THE plain was grassy, wild and bare,
Wide, wild, and open to the air,
Which had built up everywhere
An under-roof of doleful gray.

With an inner voice the river ran,
Adown it floated a dying swan,

And loudly did lament.

It was the middle of the day. Ever the weary wind went on,

And took the reed-tops as it went.

2.

Some blue peaks in the distance rose,
And white against the cold-white sky,
Shone out their crowning snows.

One willow over the river wept,
And shook the wave as the wind did sigh,
Above in the wind was the swallow,
Chasing itself at its own wild will,
And far thro' the marish green and still

The tangled water-courses slept, Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow

3.

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy

Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear;
And floating about the under-sky,
Prevailing in weakness, the coronach stole :
Sometimes afar, and sometimes anear
But anon her awful jubilant voice,
With a music strange and manifold,
Flow'd forth on a carol free and bold;
As when a mighty people rejoice

With shawms, and with cymbals, and harps of gold,

And the tumult of their acclaim is roll'd
Thro' the open gates of the city afar,

To the shepherd who watcheth the evening

12

From under my starry sea-bud crown

Low adown and around,

And I should look like a fountain of gold
Springing alone

With a shrill inner sound,
Over the throne

In the midst of the hall:

Till that great sea-snake under the sea From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps Would slowly trail himself sevenfold

Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate

With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
And all the mermen under the sea
Would feel their immortality

Die in their hearts for the love of me.

3.

But at night I would wander away, away, I would fling on each side my low-flowing locks,

And lightly vault from the throne and play With the mermen in and out of the rocks; We would run to and fro, and hide and seek, On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells,

Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea. But if any came near I would call, and shriek, And adown the steep like a wave I would leap

From the diamond-ledges that jut from the

dells;

For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list,

Of the bold merry mermen under the sea; They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter

me,

In the purple twilights under the sea;
But the king of them all would carry me,
Woo me, and win me, and marry me,
In the branching jaspers under the sea;
Then all the dry pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea
Would curl round my silver feet silently.
All looking up for the love of me.
And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
All things that are forked, and horned, and
soft

Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,

All looking down for the love of me.

A latter Luther, and a soldier-priest
To scare church-harpies from the master's
feast;

Our dusted velvets have much need of thee;
Thou art no sabbath-drawler of old saws,
Distill'd from some worm-canker'd homily;
But spurr'd at heart with fieriest energy
To embattail and to wall about thy cause
With iron-worded proof, hating to hark
The humming of the drowsy pulpit-drone
Half God's good sabbath, while the worn、
out clerk

Brow-beats his desk below. Thou from a throne

Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark Arrows of lightnings. I will stand and mark.