"WITH how sad steps, O Moon thou climb'st the sky, How silently, and with how wan a face * !" Where art thou? Thou whom I have seen on high Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race! Unhappy Nuns, whose common breath's a sigh Which they would stifle, move at such a pace! The Northern Wind, to call thee to the chase, Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I The power of Merlin, Goddess! this should be : And all the Stars, now shrouded up in heaven, Should sally forth to keep thee company. What strife would then be yours, fair Creatures, driven Now up, now down, and sparkling in your glee! But, Cynthia, should to Thee the palm be given, Queen both for beauty and for majesty.
BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my Orchard-seat!
And Flowers and Birds once more to greet, My last year's Friends together.
One have I marked, the happiest Guest In all this covert of the blest:
Hail to Thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion,
Thou, Linnet! in thy green array, Presiding Spirit here to-day, Dost lead the revels of the May, And this is thy dominion.
While Birds, and Butterflies, and Flowers Make all one Band of Paramours,
Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment;
A Life, a Presence like the Air, Scattering thy gladness without care, Too bless'd with any one to pair,
Thyself thy own enjoyment.
Upon yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstasies,
Yet seeming still to hover; There! where the flutter of his wings Upon his back and body flings Shadows and sunny glimmerings, That cover him all over.
While thus before my eyes he gleams, A Brother of the Leaves he seems; When in a moment forth he teems His little song in gushes :
As if it pleased him to disdain And mock the Form which he did feign, While he was dancing with the train
Of Leaves among the bushes.
PANSIES, Lilies, Kingcups, Daisies, Let them live upon their praises ; Long as there's a sun that sets Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are Violets, They will have a place in story : There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine.
Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star;
Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout!
I'm as great as they, I trow,
Since the day I found thee out, Little flower!-I'll make a stir Like a great Astronomer.
Modest, yet withal an Elf Bold, and lavish of thyself,
Since we needs must first have met
I have seen thee, high and low,
Thirty years or more, and yet
'Twas a face I did not know;
Thou hast now, go where I may,
Fifty greetings in a day.
Ere a leaf is on a bush,
In the time before the Thrush
Has a thought about it's nest, Thou wilt come with half a call, Spreading out thy glossy breast Like a careless Prodigal; Telling tales about the sun, When we've little warmth, or none.
Poets, vain men in their mood!
Travel with the multitude;
Never heed them; I aver
That they all are wanton Wooers;
But the thrifty Cottager,
Who stirs little out of doors,
Joys to spy thee near her home, Spring is coming, Thou art come!
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