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And, though the chamber was black as night,
105 But he cannot sleep, he cannot sleep!
THE SANDS OF DEE.
'O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands of Dee;'
And all alone went she.
The creeping tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
And never home came she.
Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair
A tress of golden hair,
A drowned maiden's hair,
Above the nets at sea ?
Among the stakes on Dee.'
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea :
Softly! she is lying
Charles Gamage Eastman.
DEATH AND LIFE.
Her sufferings ended with the day!
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
Alas! for this gray shadow, once a man-
25 Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears To hear me? Let me go: take back thy gift : Why should a man desire in any way To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet for all ?
A soft air fans the cloud apart ; there comes A glimpse of that dark world where I was born. Once more the old mysterious glimmer steals From thy pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure, 35 And bosom beating with a heart renewed. Thy cheek begins to redden through the gloom, Thy sweet eyes brighten slowly close to mine, Ere yet they blind the stars, and the wild team Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise,
40 And shake the darkness from their loosened manes, And beat the twilight into flakes of fire.
Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
45 Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? • The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.' Ay me! ay me! with what another heart
50 In days far-off, and with what other eyes I used to watch—if I be he that watched The lucid outline forming round thee; saw The dim curls kindle into sunny rings; Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood 55 Glow with the glow that slowly crimsoned all Thy presence and thy portals, while I lay, Mouth, forehead, eyelids, growing dewy-warm With kisses balmier than half-opening buds Of April, and could hear the lips that kissed Whispering I knew not what of wild and sweet, Like that strange song I heard Apollo sing, While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.
Yet hold me not for ever in thine East: How can my nature longer mix with thine?
Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold
75 And thee returning on thy silver wheels.
Alfred Tennyson. . CCXCIX
THE DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE.
5 * Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one, That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
“Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
• Dear as remembered kisses after death,