TO STELLA

Ev'ning, now, from purple wings,
Sheds the grateful gifts she brings;
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,
Cooling breezes shake the reed;
Shake the reed, and curl the stream,
Silver'd o'er with Cynthia 's beam.
Near, the chequer'd, lonely grove
Hears, and keeps thy secrets, Love.—
Stella ! thither let us stray,
Lightly o'er the dewy way;
Phœbus drives his burning car
Hence, my lovely Stella , far;
In his stead, the Queen of Night
Round us pours a lambent light;
Light, that serves but just to show

Why should I be bound to thee
O my lovely mirtle tree
[Love free love cannot be bound
To any tree that grows on ground]

To a lovely mirtle bound
Blossoms showring all around
[Like to dung upon the ground
Underneath my mirtle bound]
O how sick & weary I
Underneath my mirtle lie

Love to faults is always blind
Always is to joy inclind
[Always] Lawless wingd & unconfind
And breaks all chains from every mind

Deceit to secresy [inclind] confind
[Modest prudish & confind]
Lawful cautious [changeful and] & refind
[Never is to] To every thing but interest blind
[And chains & fetters every mind]
And forges fetters for the mind

The sweetest notes among the human heart-strings
Are dull with rust;
The sweetest chords, adjusted by the angels,
Are clogged with dust;
We pipe and pipe again our dreary music
Upon the self-same strains,
While sounds of crime, and fear, and desolation,
Come back in sad refrains.

On through the world we go, an army marching
With listening ears,
Each longing, sighing, for the heavenly music
He never hears;
Each longing, sighing, for a word of comfort,
A word of tender praise,

Oh come with me by moonlight, love,
And let us seek the river's shore;
My light canoe awaits thee, love,
The sweetest burden e'er it bore!

The soft, low winds are whispering there,
Of human beauty, human love,
And with approving faces, too,
The stars are shining from above.

Come place thy small white hand in mine,
My boat is 'neath those willow trees,
And with my practised arm, the oar
Will ask no favor from the breeze.

Now, now we're on the waters, love,
Alone upon the murmuring tide —

No mortal object did these eyes behold
When first they met the placid light of thine,
And my Soul felt her destiny divine,
And hope of endless peace in me grew bold:
Heaven-born, the Soul a heavenward course must hold;
Beyond the visible world she soars to seek
(For what delights the sense is false and weak)
Ideal Form, the universal mould.
The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
In that which perishes: nor will he lend
His heart to aught which doth on time depend.
'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love,

O, beauteous is the earth! and fair
The splendors of Creation are:
Nature's green robe, the shining sky,
The winds that through the tree-tops sigh,
All speak a bounteous God.

The noble trees, the sweet young flowers,
The birds that sing in forest bowers,
The rivers grand that murmuring roll,
And all which joys or calms the soul
Are made by gracious might.

The flocks and droves happy and free,
The dwellers of the boundless sea,
Each living thing on air or land,

. . . . . . .
And many there were hurt by that strong boy,
His name, they said, was Pleasure,
And near him stood, glorious beyond measure,
Four Ladies who possess all empery
In earth and air and sea,
Nothing that lives from their award is free.
Their names will I declare to thee,
Love, Hope, Desire, and Fear,
And they the regents are
Of the four elements that frame the heart,
And each diversely exercised her art
By force or circumstance or sleight
To prove her dreadful might
Upon that poor domain.

Witness thou
The dear companion of my lonely walk,
My hope, my joy, my sister, and my friend,
Or something dearer still, if reason knows
A dearer thought, or in the heart of love
There be a dearer name.

I love upon a stormy night
To hear those fits of slender song
Which through the woods and open plains,
Among the clouds or in the rains,
The loud winds bear along.

Then do I love to stand alone
By some huge rock or tree defended,
To stand like one that's blind, and catch
Of those small strains the last faint snatch
For human ears intended.

But sweeter when the moon shines bright
And the clear sky in calm blue weather
With rocks and woods and with the green
Of a small meadow makes a scene
Of earth and heaven together.