Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven That rustle through the unquiet heaven Over the violets there that lie In myriad types of the human eye- And weep above a nameless grave! They wave: from out their fragrant tops Eternal dews come down in drops. They weep-from off their delicate stems Perennial tears descend in gems. * "And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures."-KORAN. None sing so wildly well And the giddy stars (so legends tell) Of his voice, all mute. Tottering above In her highest noon, The enamoured moon Blushes with love, While, to listen, the red levin (With the rapid Pleiads, even, Pauses in heaven. And they say (the starry choir And the other listening things) That Israfeli's fire Is owing to that lyre By which he sits and sings The trembling living wire Of those unusual strings. But the skies that angel trod, Where deep thoughts are a duty— Where Love's a grown-up God Where the Houri glances are Imbued with all the beauty Which we worship in a star. Therefore, thou art not wrong, Israfeli, who despisest ISRAFEL. To thee the laurels belong, Best bard, because the wisest ! Merrily live, and long! The ecstacies above With thy burning measures suitThy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, With the fervour of thy luteWell may the stars be mute! Yes, heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely-flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours. If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky. SILENCE. HERE are some qualities-some incorporate things, A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinc'd in solid and shade. There is a two-fold Silence-sea and shore Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places, Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces, Some human memories and tearful lore, Render him terrorless: his name's "No More." He is the corporate Silence: dread him not! Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf, HOU wouldst be loved?-then let thy heart Thy grace, thy more than beauty, |