78 A FAREWELL.-THE VISION OF SIN. She seem'd a part of joyous Spring; A gown of grass-green silk she wore, Buckled with golden clasps before; A light-green tuft of plumes she bore Closed in a golden ring. Now on some twisted ivy-net, Her cream-white mule his pastern set; And fleeter now she skimm'd the plains When all the glimmering moorland rings As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, A FAREWELL. FLOW down, cold rivulet, to the sea, Thy tribute wave deliver: No more by thee my steps shall be, Forever and forever. Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea, A rivulet then a river: Nowhere by thee my steps shall be, Forever and forever. But here will sigh thine alder tree, A thousand suns will stream on thee, THE VISION OF SIN. 1. I HAD a vision when the night was late: A youth came riding toward a palace-gate. He rode a horse with wings, that would have flown, As when the sun, a crescent of eclipse, By heaps of gourds, and skins of wine, and piles of grapes. 2. Then methought I heard a mellow sound, Gathering up from all the lower ground; Narrowing in to where they sat assembled Low voluptuous music winding trembled, Wov'n in circles: they that heard it sigh'd, Panted hand in hand with faces pale, Swung themselves, and in low tones replied; The strong tempestuous treble throbb'd and palpitated; Ran into its giddiest whirl of sound, Flung the torrent rainbow round: Then they started from their places, Flutter'd headlong from the sky. 3. And then I look'd up toward a mountain-tract, I saw that every morning, far withdrawn From those still heights, and, slowly drawing near, 4. "Wrinkled hostler, grim and thin! Here is custom come your way: Take my brute, and lead him in, Stuff his ribs with mouldy hay. "Bitter barmaid, waning fast! See that sheets are on my bed; What! the flower of life is past: It is long before you wed. "Slip-shod waiter, lank and sour, At the Dragon on the heath! Let us have a quiet hour, Let us hob-and-nob with Death. "I am old, but let me drink; Bring me spices, bring me wine; I remember, when I think, "Wine is good for shrivell'd lips, When a blanket wraps the day, When the rotten woodland drips, And the leaf is stamp'd in clay. "Sit thee down, and have no shame, "Let me screw thee up a peg: Let me loose thy tongue with wine: Callest thou that thing a leg? Which is thinnest? thine or mine? "Thou shalt not be saved by works: Thou hast been a sinner too: Ruin'd trunks on wither'd forks, Empty scarecrows, I and you! "Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born. "We are men of ruin'd blood; Therefore comes it we are wise. Fish are we that love the mud, Rising to no fancy-flies. "Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools, Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools. "Friendship!—to be two in one- How she mouths behind my back. Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell. "O! we two as well can look Whited thought and cleanly life As the priest, above his book Leering at his neighbor's wife. "Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born. "Drink, and let the parties rave: They are fill'd with idle spleen; Rising, falling, like a wave, For they know not what they mean. "He that roars for liberty Faster binds. a tyrant's power; And the tyrant's cruel glee Forces on the freer hour. "Fill the can, and fill the cup: All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again. "Greet her with applausive breath, "No, I love not what is new; She is of an ancient house: And I think we know the hue Of that cap upon her brows. "Let her go! her thirst she slakes Where the bloody conduit runs: Then her sweetest meal she makes On the first-born of her sons. "Drink to lofty hopes that coolVisions of a perfect State : Drink we, last, the public fool, Frantic love and frantic hate. "Chant me now some wicked stave, T: thy drooping courage rise, And the glow-worm of the grave Glimmer in thy rheumy eyes. "Fear not thou to loose thy tongue; "Change, reverting to the years, When thy nerves could understand What there is in loving tears, And the warmth of hand in hand. "Tell me tales of thy first loveApril hopes, the fools of chance: Till the graves begin to move, And the dead begin to dance. "Fill the can, and fill the cup: All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again. "Trooping from their mouldy dens The chap-fallen circle spreads: Welcome, fellow-citizens, Hollow hearts and empty heads! "You are bones, and what of that? "Death is king, and Vivat Rex! Tread a measure on the stones, Madam-if I know your sex, From the fashion of your bones. "No, I cannot praise the fire "Drink to Fortune, drink to Chance, "Thou art mazed, the night is long, "Youthful hopes, by scores, to all, When the locks are crisp and curl'd Unto me my maudlin gall And my mockeries of the world. "Fill the cup, and fill the can! Mingle madness, mingle scorn! Dregs of life, and lees of man: Yet we will not die forlorn." 5. The voice grew faint: there came a further change |