326 THE BROOK I come from haunts of coot and hern, By thirty hills I hurry down, Till last by Philip's farm I flow 5 10 For men may come and men may go, 133 I chatter over stony ways, With many a curve my banks I fret 1 chatter, chatter, as I flow For men may come and men may go, I wind about, and in and out, And here and there a foamy flake Να And draw them all along, and flow For men may come and men may go, I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I move the sweet forget-me-nots 35 40 I murmur under moon and stars 45 I linger by my shingly bars; And out again I curve and flow For men may come and men may go, LORD TENNYSON. 50 327 As thro' the land at eve we went, And blessings on the falling out When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears! 5 For when we came where lies the child 10 There above the little grave, LORD TENNYSON. 328 The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, 10 The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! O love, they die in yon rich sky, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 329 Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. 15 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. 10 Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes 13 The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; O Death in Life, the days that are no more. LORD TENNYSON. 330 O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her what I tell to thee. O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each, That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, And dark and true and tender is the North. 20 5 O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill, And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. O were I thou that she might take me in, And lay me on her bosom, and her heart Would rock the snowy cradle till I died. 10 Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, Delaying as the tender ash delays To clothe herself, when all the woods are green ? O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown : O tell her, brief is life but love is long, 14 20 O Swallow, flying from the golden woods, Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine, And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee. LORD TENNYSON. 331 Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost, And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, LORD TENNYSON. 6 10 332 5 Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: 10 15 |