sand,

Torn from the fringe of spray.

I started once, or seem'd to start in pain, Resolved on noble things, and strove to speak,

As when a great thought strikes along the brain,

And flushes all the cheek.

And once my arm was lifted to hew down A cavalier from off his saddle-bow, That bore a lady from a leaguer'd town ; And then, I know not how,

All those sharp fancies, by down-lapsing thought

Stream'd onward, lost their edges, and did creep

Roll'd on each other, rounded, smooth'd, and brought

Into the gulfs of sleep.

At last methought that I had wander'd far In an old wood: fresh-wash'd in coolest

dew

The maiden splendours of the morning star Shook in the stedfast blue.

Enormous elm-tree-boles did stoop and

lean

Upon the dusky brushwood underneath Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green,

New from its silken sheath.

The dim red morn had died, her journey done,

And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain,

Half-fall'n across the threshold of the sun, Never to rise again.

There was no motion in the dumb dead air,

Not any song of bird or sound of rill ; Gross darkness of the inner sepulchre Is not so deadly still

As that wide forest. turn'd

Their humid arms festooning tree to tree,

And at the root thro' lush green grasses burn'd

The red anemone.

I knew the flowers, I knew the leaves, I knew

The tearful glimmer of the languid dawn On those long, rank, dark wood-walks drench'd in dew,

Leading from lawn to lawn.

The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame

The times when I remember to have been Joyful and free from blame.

And from within me a clear under-tone Thrill'd thro' mine ears in that unblissful clime,

'Pass freely thro': the wood is all thine

own,

Until the end of time.'

At length I saw a lady within call,
Stiller than chisell'd marble, standing
there;

A daughter of the gods, divinely tall,
And most divinely fair.

Her loveliness with shame and with sur

prise

Froze my swift speech: she turning on my face

The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes, Spoke slowly in her place.

'I had great beauty: ask thou not my

name:

No one can be more wise than destiny. Many drew swords and died. Where'er

I came

I brought calamity.'

'No marvel, sovereign lady: in fair field

'My youth,' she said, 'was blasted with

a curse:

This woman was the cause.

'I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which men call'd Aulis in those iron

years:

My father held his hand upon his face; I, blinded with my tears,

'Still strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs

As in a dream. Dimly I could descry The stern black-bearded kings with wolfish eyes,

Waiting to see me die.

'The high masts flicker'd as they lay afloat; The crowds, the temples, waver'd, and the shore;

The bright death quiver'd at the victim's throat;

Touch'd; and I knew no more.' Whereto the other with a downward brow: 'I would the white cold heavy-plung. ing foam,

Whirl'd by the wind, had roll'd me deep below,

Then when I left my home.'

Her slow full words sank thro' the silence drear,

As thunder-drops fall on a sleeping sea : Sudden I heard a voice that cried, 'Come here,

That I may look on thee.'

I turning saw, throned on a flowery rise, One sitting on a crimson scarf unroll'd ; A queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold black eyes,

Brow-bound with burning gold.

She, flashing forth a haughty smile, began: 'I govern❜d men by change, and so I sway'd

a man.

'Tis long since I have seen

Once, like the moon, I made

"The ever-shifting currents of the blood According to my humour ebb and flow. I have no men to govern in this wood: That makes my only woe.

'Nay-yet it chafes me that I could not bend

One will; nor tame and tutor with mine eye

That dull cold-blooded Cæsar. Prythee, friend,

Where is Mark Antony?

'The man, my lover, with whom rode sublime

A name for ever!-lying robed and crown'd,

Worthy a Roman spouse.'

Her warbling voice, a lyre of widest range Struck by all passion, did fall down and glance

From tone to tone, and glided thro' all change

Of liveliest utterance.

When she made pause I knew not for delight;

Because with sudden motion from the ground

brows,

Of sound on roof and floor

'And I went mourning, "No fair Hebrew boy

The light white cloud swam over us. Anon

We heard the lion roaring from his den; We saw the large white stars rise one by

one,

Or, from the darken'd glen,

'Saw God divide the night with flying flame,

And thunder on the everlasting hills. I heard Him, for He spake, and grief became

A solemn scorn of ills.

'When the next moon was roll'd into the sky,

Strength came to me that equall'd my
desire.

How beautiful a thing it was to die
For God and for my sire!

'It comforts me in this one thought to dwell,

That I subdued me to my father's will; Because the kiss he gave me, ere I fell,

Sweetens the spirit still.

'Moreover it is written that my race Hew'd Ammon, hip and thigh, from Aroer

On Arnon unto Minneth.' Here her face Glow'd, as I look'd at her.

She lock'd her lips: she left me where I stood :

'Glory to God,' she sang, and past

afar,

Death,

Thy sole delight is, sitting still, With that gold dagger of thy bill To fret the summer jenneting.

A golden bill! the silver tongue,

Cold February loved, is dry: Plenty corrupts the melody That made thee famous once, when

young:

And in the sultry garden-squares,

Now thy flute-notes are changed to

coarse,

I hear thee not at all, or hoarse

dull pain