ΤΟ WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM. I SEND you here a sort of allegory, And Knowledge for its beauty; or if Good, Good only for its beauty, seeing not That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge, are three sisters That doat upon each other, friends to man, Living together under the same roof, And never can be sunder'd without tears. And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be Shut out from Love, and on her threshold lie Was common clay ta'en from the common earth, THE PALACE OF ART. I BUILT my soul a lordly pleasure-house, 66 I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse, Dear soul, for all is well." A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass, Suddenly scaled the light. Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf The rock rose clear, or winding stair. My soul would live alone unto herself In her high palace there. And while the world runs round and round," I said, 66 Reign thou apart, a quiet king, Still as, while Saturn whirls, his stedfast shade Sleeps on his luminous ring." To which my soul made answer readily: In this great mansion, that is built for me, Four courts I made, East, West and South and North, In each a squared lawn, wherefrom The golden gorge of dragons spouted forth A flood of fountain-foam. And round the cool green courts there ran a row Echoing all night to that sonorous flow And round the roofs a gilded gallery That lent broad verge to distant lands, Far as the wild swan wings, to where the sky From those four jets four currents in one swell Across the mountain stream❜d below In misty folds, that floating as they fell And high on every peak a statue seem'd A cloud of incense of all odour steam'd From out a golden cup. So that she thought, " And who shall gaze upon My palace with unblinded eyes, While this great bow will waver in the sun, For that sweet incense rose and never fail'd, Burnt like a fringe of fire. Likewise the deep-set windows, stain'd and traced, Would seem slow-flaming crimson fires From shadow'd grots of arches interlaced, And tipt with frost-like spires. Full of long-sounding corridors it was, That over-vaulted grateful gloom, Thro' which the livelong day my soul did pass, Well-pleased, from room to room. |