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The wandering airs they faint

On the dark, the silent stream
The champak odours fail

Like sweet thoughts in a dream ;
The nightingale's complaint

It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on thine,

O belovéd as thou art !
O lift me from the grass !

I die, I faint, I fail !
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.

20 My cheek is cold and white, alas !

My heart beats loud and fast ;
O! press it close to thine again
Where it will break at last.

P. B. SHELLEY.

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173 She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes, Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies, One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face, Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek and o'er that brow

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow

But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.

LORD BYRON.

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174 She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair ; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay. I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit, yet a woman too! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin-liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine ; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death : The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill ; A perfect woman, nobly plann'd To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.

W. WORDSWORTH.

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175

She is not fair to outward view

As many maidens be ;
Her loveliness I never knew

Until she smiled on me.

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O then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.
But now her looks are coy and cold,

To mine they ne'er reply,
And yet I cease not to behold
The love-light in her eye :

10 Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other maidens are.

H. COLERIDGE.

176

I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden ;

Thou needest not fear mine ; My spirit is too deeply laden

Ever to burthen thine.

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I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion ;

Thou needest not fear mine ; Innocent is the heart's devotion With which I worship thine.

P. B. SHELLEY.

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1707

THE LOST LOVE
She dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove ;
A maid whom there were none to praise,

And very few to love :
A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye !
-Fair as a star, when only one

Is shining in the sky..
She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be ;
But she is in her grave, and oh,
The difference to me!

W. WORDSWORTH.

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178

I travell’d among unknown men

In lands beyond the sea ;
Nor, England! did I know till then

What love I bore to thee.

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'Tis past, that melancholy dream !

Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem

To love thee more and more.
Among thy mountains did I feel

The joy of my desire ;
And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel

Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceald

The bowers where Lucy play'd ; And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes survey’d.

W. WORDSWORTH.

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179

THE EDUCATION OF NATURE

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Three years she grew in sun and shower ;
Then Nature said, “ A lovelier flower

On earth was never sown :
This child I to myself will take ;
She shall be mine, and I will make

A lady of my own.
Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse : and with me

The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, 10
Shall feel an overseeing power

To kindle or restrain.

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She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn

Or up the mountain springs
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm

Of mute insensate things.
The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her ; for her the willow bend

Nor shall she fail to see
E'en in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form

By silent sympathy.
The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her ; and she shall lean her ear

In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound

Shall pass into her face.
· And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,

Her virgin bosom swell ;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live

Here in this happy dell.'
Thus Nature spake—The work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run !

She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene ;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.

W. WORDSWORTH.

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180

A slumber did my spirit seal ;

I had no human fears :
She seem'd a thing that could not feel

The touch of earthly years.

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