No More Learning

WERE it much to implore thee,
If devoutly, once,
I might kneel before thee
After suffering long?
And thine hand embracing,
Press it tenderly,
Calm with kisses tracing,
Short and soft and still?
Would'st thou grant my pleading,
If severe and still
Passively conceding,
Thy look should suffer me?
18

? SINCE I be down-cast,
Alone I know one thing,
I dream myself near thee,
A song to thee I sing.
Then methinks I hear
Almost thy voice's sound,
Afar its echo falls,
And calmer grows my care.
19

? SEE my child, I'm going,
For I would not pain thee
Mortal sorrows vainly
Unto thee foreshowing.
I for thee am wary,
See my child I'm going,
Lest erelong thy fairy
Roses pale be growing.
Fain would I have taught thee,
But alone that wrought me,
U. Brief beyond all knowing,
See my child, I'm going.
20

? THIS is just the kind of morning;
Balmy breaths o'er brook and tree
Make thine ear more keen and tender
Unto vows I hid for thee;
Sweet petitions softly dawning.
No more should I be dismayed
If beside the verdant hedges,
We again together strayed,
I would whisper soft my pledges
And to thee all homage tender.
21

?
THROUGH the casement a noble-child saw
In the spring-time golden and green,
As he harked to the swallow's lore,
And looked so rejoiced and keen.
A minstrel. --Minstrel here!
Come give me thy loveliest lay.
The child inclined his ear,
And then grew weary and gray.
Oh 1 why did he sing me that song,
I threw him the ring from my hand
Bitter and treacherous wrong
That sought me with fetters to brand.
No longer the flowers are gay,
The springtime hath lost its caress,
Alone I will dream to-day,
Weep in the silent recess.
22

? FROM
THE YEAR OF THE SOUL

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\
After Vintage
COMB in the death-foreboded park, to view
How yonder smiling bank in radiance shimmers,
The virgin cloudlets' unexpected blue
Upon the tarn and tinted pathway glimmers.
There, take the darkling gold, the gentle gray
From birches and from box--the zephyrs sway,
Few lingering roses yet their perfumes breathe,
Select them, kiss them and a crown enwreathe.
Do not forget these asters that remain,
The scarlet leafage round the tendrils twining,
And all the rests of verdant life combining,
Resolve them in the soft autumnal vein.
25

? NEATH trembling tree tops to and fro we wander
Along the beech-grove, nearly to the bower,
And see within the silent meadow yonder,
The almond tree a second time in flower.
We search for seats by cooling shades deserted,
There, where never strangers' voices fluster,
Our arms entwined, our eyes in dreams averted,
We steep our souls in gentle lingering lustre.