English

She came to my dream,
but was gone when I woke.
Where has she gone leaving me,
the one I long for?
Dreams may be empty,
but visit me as often as you can.

Of all the birds from East to West
—That tuneful are and dear,
I love that farmyard bird the best,
—They call him Chanticleer.

Gold plume and copper plume,
—Comb of scarlet gay;
'Tis he that scatters night and gloom,
—And whistles back the day!

He is the sun's brave herald
—That, ringing his blithe horn,
Calls round a world dew-pearled
—The heavenly airs of morn.

O clear gold, shrill and bold!
—He calls through creeping mist
The mountains from the night and cold
—To rose and amethyst.

Jim says a sailor man
He means to be;
He'll sail a splendid ship
Out on the sea.

Dick wants to buy a farm
When he's a man
He'll get some cows and sheep
Soon as he can.

Tom says he'll keep a shop;
Nice things to eat,
Two windows full of cakes,
Down in the street.

I'd hate a stuffy shop—
When I'm a man
I'll buy a trotting horse

I WILL follow through yon grove,
Where I soon shall meet my love;
Then with sweet embraces we
Will clip, and cull, and none shall see.
A willow garland I will make,
And sweetly wear it for his sake.
Then through the thickets, woods and plains
I will hide me from the swains.

There dwelt a miller, hale and bold,
—Beside the River Dee;
He wrought and sang from morn till night,
—No lark more blithe than he;
And this the burden of his song
—Forever used to be,
“I envy no man, no, not I,
—And no one envies me!”

“Thou'rt wrong, my friend!” said old King Hal,
—“As wrong as wrong can be;
For could my heart be light as thine,
—I'd gladly change with thee.
And tell me now what makes thee sing
—With voice so loud and free,
While I am sad, though I'm the King,
—Beside the River Dee?”

Ruminant, while firelight glows on shadowy walls
And dusk with the last leaves of autumn falls,
I hear my garden thrush whose notes again
Tell stillness after hours of gusty rain.
Can I record tranquillity intense
With harmony of heart,—experience
Like a rich memory's mind-lit monochrome?
Winged lovely moments, can I call you home?

This texture is to-day's. Near as my mind
Each instant is; yet each reveals to me
November night-falls known a lifetime long:
And I've no need to travel far to find

Paint black with peril what the Time portends;
Breathe, if thou wilt, but stifling hopelessness;
Brood on Man's swift decline from small to less—
The beast that wallows or the beast that rends:
Yet shall the Good prevail,
We shall not fail!

Blush for our country's dignity and fame,
Forgot by those who rob us of our pride;
Deplore the sleepers at the altar's side
While madmen light their torch at Freedom's flame:
Yet shall the Good prevail,
We shall not fail!

Yea, shudder at the temple strewn with coin;

I WEEP a sight which was not seen,
A deed which was not done at all
The murder of an unborn queen,
The sack of an unbuilded hall.

Never a queen of Art or Song
This doom-devoted star hath borne
Whom the protagonists of Wrong
Did not tread down with hooves of scorn.

Stern watch those iron traitors keep
Who crucified the Singing Child.
The unborn Christs we poets weep,
The strangled songs, the dreams defiled.

A woman stops at nothing, when she wears
Rich emeralds round her neck, and, in her ears,
Pearls of enormous size; these justify
Her faults, and make all lawful in her eye.
Sure, of all ills with which the state is curst,
A wife, who brings you money, is the worst.
Behold! her face a spectacle appears,
Bloated, and foul, and plaister'd to the ears
With viscous pastes:—the husband looks askew,
And sticks his lips in this detested glew.
Still to the adulterer, sweet and clean she goes,
(No sight offends his eye, no smell his nose,)

I SAW before me loom an ancient house;
One portal there, with mystic words inscribed,
Had in its centre graved, the single horn
Ascending—sign of the immortal mind
Which rules for ever and is ruled by none,
Because united to the Law Divine
'Tis made for ever to itself a law—
Thy burning star, dread, potent Pentagram!

Before that threshold in the morn's first light,
In wonder lost, in ecstasy of joy,
I stood: Thou spirit to the end attain'd,
Thou crown'd adept, thy long probation done,