Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd sand, 10 Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, 15 Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Find also in the sound a thought, 20 Hearing it by this distant northern sea. The sea of faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore 25 Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear Ah, love, let us be true 30 To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, 35 And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night, LINES WRITTEN IN KENSINGTON GARDENS (From Empedocles on Etna and Other Poems, 1852) In this lone, open glade I lie, Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand; Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand! 5 Birds here make song, each bird has his, How green under the boughs it is! Sometimes a child will cross the glade Here at my feet what wonders pass, Scarce fresher is the mountain-sod 20 Counts his day's spoil, the spotted trout. In the huge world, which roars hard by, But in my helpless cradle I Was breathed on by the rural Pan. 25 I on men's impious uproar hurl'd, Yet here is peace for ever new ! Still all things in this glade go through Then to their happy rest they pass! The flowers upclose, the birds are fed, 35 The night comes down upon the grass, The child sleeps warmly in his bed. Calm soul of all things! make it mine That there abides a peace of thine 40 Man did not make, and cannot mar. The will to neither strive nor cry, SELF-DEPENDENCE (From the same) Weary of myself, and sick of asking 5 And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send: "Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end! "Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters, 10 On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you!" From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, 15 In the rustling night-air came the answer: “Unaffrighted by the silence round them, These demand not that the things without them 20 Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. “And with joy the stars perform their shining, 25 "Bounded by themselves, and unregardful O air-born voice! long since, severely clear, 30 A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear: "Resolve to be thyself; and know, that he Who finds himself, loses his misery!" SHAKSPEARE (From The Strayed Reveller and Other Poems, 1849) Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask-Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, 5 Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, 10 Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self secure, Didst tread on earth unguess'd at.-Better so! All pains the immortal spirit must endure, Gabriel Charles Dante Rossetti 1828-1882 THE BLESSED DAMOZEL (Third Version, from Poems, 1870) The blessed damozel leaned out 5 She had three lilies in her hand. 10 And the stars in her hair were seven. Her robe ungirt from clasp to hem, But a white rose of Mary's gift, Her hair that lay along her back Herseemed she scarce had been a day 15 The wonder was not yet quite gone Albeit, to them she left, her day |