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THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

ITTLE Ellie sits alone

'Mid the beeches of a meadow,
By a stream-side on the grass;
And the trees are showering down
Doubles of their leaves in shadow
On her shining hair and face.

She has thrown her bonnet by;
And her feet she has been dipping
In the shallow water's flow;
Now she holds them nakedly

In her hands, all sleek and dripping,
While she rocketh to and fro.

Little Ellie sits alone,

And the smile she softly useth

Fills the silence like a speech;

While she thinks what shall be done,

And the sweetest pleasure chooseth
For her future, within reach.

Little Ellie in her smile

Chooseth, "I will have a lover,
Riding on a steed of steeds:

He shall love me without guile; And to him I will discover

The swan's nest among the reeds.

"And the steed it shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble,

With an eye that takes the breath,
And the lute he plays upon

Shall strike ladies into trouble,

As his sword strikes men to death.

"And the steed it shall be shod All in silver, housed in azure,

And the mane shall swim the wind;
And the hoofs along the sod
Shall flash onward and keep measure,
Till the shepherds look behind.

"He will kiss me on the mouth

Then, and lead me as a lover,

Through the crowds that praise his deeds; And, when soul-tied by one troth,

Unto him I will discover.

That swan's nest among the reeds."

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Tied the bonnet, donn'd the shoe,
And went homeward round a mile,

Just to see, as she did daily,

What more eggs were with the two.

Pushing through the elm-tree copse, Winding by the stream, light-hearted, Where the osier pathway leads,

Past the boughs, she stoops and stops: Lo! the wild swan had deserted,

And a rat had gnawed the reeds.

Ellie went home sad and slow. If she found the lover ever,

With his red-roan steed of steeds, Sooth I know not! but I know She could never show him never, That swan's nest among the reeds.

THE NECKAN

MATTHEW ARNOLD

N summer, on the headlands,
The Baltic Sea along,

Sits Neckan with his harp of gold,
And sings his plaintive song.

Green rolls beneath the headlands,
Green rolls the Baltic Sea;

And there, below the Neckan's feet,

His wife and children be.

He sings not of the ocean,
Its shells and roses pale;

Of earth, of earth the Neckan sings,
He hath no other tale.

He sits upon the headlands,
And sings a mournful stave
Of all he saw and felt on earth,
Far from the kind sea-wave.

Sings how a knight, he wander'd
By castle, field, and town-

But earthly knights have harder hearts
Than the sea-children own.

Sings of his early bridal

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Priest, knights, and ladies gay.

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And who art thou," the priest began,

"Sir Knight, who wedd'st to-day?"

"I am no knight," he answered; "From the sea-waves I come."

The knights drew sword, the ladies scream'd, The surprised priest stood dumb.

He sings how from the chapel
He vanished with his bride,
And bore her down to the sea-halls,
Beneath the salt sea-tide.

He sings how she sits weeping

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'Mid shells that round her lie.

False Neckan shares my bed," she weeps; "No Christian mate have I."

He sings how through the billows

He rose to earth again,

And sought a priest to sign the cross,
That Neckan Heaven might gain.

He sings how, on an evening,

Beneath the birch trees cool,

He sate and play'd his harp of gold,
Beside the river-pool.

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