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THE INDIAN SERENADE Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers,
Lightning my pilot sits; I arise from dreams of thee
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,In the first sweet sleep of night,
It struggles and howls at fits; 20 When the winds are breathing low, Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, And the stars are shining bright:
This pilot is guiding me, I arise from dreams of thee,
Lured by the love of the genii that move And a spirit in my feet
In the depths of the purple sea; Hath led me who knows how?
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills; To thy chamber window, Sweet!
Over the lakes and the plains, 26
Wherever he dream, under mountain or The wandering airs they faint
stream, On the dark, the silent stream
The Spirit he loves remains; The Champak odors fail
And I all the while bask in heaven's Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
blue smile, The nightingale's complaint,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains. 30 It dies upon her heart;As I must on thine,
The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, Oh! beloved as thou art!
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, Oh lift me from the grass!
When the morning star shines dead, I die! I faint! I fail!
As on the jag of a mountain crag, 35 Let thy love in kisses rain
Which an earthquake rocks and On my lips and eyelids pale.
swings, My cheek is cold and white, alas! An eagle alit one moment may sit My heart beats loud and fast;
In the light of its golden wings. Oh! press it to thine own again, And when sunset may breathe, from the Where it will break at last.
lit sea beneath,
It ardors of rest and of love, 40 And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of heaven above, THE CLOUD
With wings folded I rest, on mine airy
nest, I bring fresh showers for the thirsting As still as a brooding dove.
From the seas and the streams; That orbed maiden with white fire laden, I bear light shade for the leaves when laid Whom mortals call the moon, 46 In their noon-day dreams.
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like From my wings are shaken the dews that
By the midnight breezes strewn; The sweet buds every one,
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, When rocked to rest on their mother's Which only the angels hear, 50 breast,
May have broken the woof of my tent's As she dances about the sun.
thin roof, I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
The stars peep behind her and peer; And whiten the green plains under, And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, And then again I dissolve it in rain,
Like a swarm of golden bees,
55 I sift the snow on the mountains below,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, And their great pines groan aghast; Like strips of the sky fallen through me on And all the night 'tis my pillow white, 15
high, While I sleep in the arms of the Are each paved with the moon and blast.
I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone, In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning, The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel
Thou dost float and run; and swim,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just When the whirlwinds my banner
15 unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like The pale purple even shape,
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of heaven
In the broad day-light
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear, 24 The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
While the moist earth was laughing
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud I pass through the pores of the ocean and The moon rains out her beams, and heaven shores;
is overflowed. I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not And the winds and sunbeams with their
Drops so bright to see convex gleams
As from thy presence showers a rain of Build up the blue dome of air, 80
35 I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a poet hidden Like a child from the womb, like a ghost
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
40 TO A SKYLARK
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overIn profuse strains of unpremeditated art. 5
flows her bower:
Higher still and higher
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Its aërial hue And singing still dost soar, and soaring Among the flowers and grass which screen ever singest.
it from the view:
Like a rose embowered
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear, Makes faint with too much sweet these I know not how thy joy we ever should heavy-winged thieves.
95 Sound of vernal showers
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found, Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the doth surpass.
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am lisdivine:
105 Chorus Hymenæal,
Or triumphal chant,
70 Vibrates in the
memoryWhat objects are the fountains
Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
5 What fields, or waves, or moun
Are heaped for the belovèd's bed; tains?
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ig- Love itself shall slumber on. norance of pain?
WRITTEN IN DEJECTION NEAR
The sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The waves are dancing fast and
bright, Things more true and deep
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear Than we mortals dream,
The purple noon's transparent might; Or how could thy notes flow in such a
The breath of the moist earth is light, 5 crystal stream?
Around its unexpanded buds; 85
Like many a voice of one delight,
The winds, the birds, the ocean floods,
I see the Deep's untrampled floor Our sweetest songs are those that tell of With green and purple seaweeds saddest thought.
Tell me, Moon, thou pale and gray
Seekest thou repose now?
I see the waves upon the shore,
Weary Wind, who wanderest
On the tree or billow?
Alas! I have nor hope nor health,
Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep crowned
Are brackish with the salt of human tears! Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb leisure.
and flow Others I see whom these surround—25
Claspest the limits of mortality, 5 Smiling they live, and call life pleas
And sick of prey, yet howling on for ure;
more, To me that cup has been dealt in another
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable measure.
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm, Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are;
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea? I could lie down like a tired child,
30 And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must
Spirit of Night!
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, 5
Which make thee terrible and dear,Some might lament that I were cold,
Swift be thy flight!
Unlike this day, which, when the sun Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Shall on its stainless glory set,
Touching all with thine opiate wandWill linger, though enjoyed, like joy in
Come, long sought!
I sighed for thee; THE WORLD'S WANDERERS When light rode high, and the dew was
gone, Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of light And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
And the weary Day turned to his rest, In what cavern of the night
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noon-tide bee,
25 Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me?-And I replied,
No, not thee!
Ere the cloud piled on Atlas can dwindle
We encircle the earth and the moon: 10
We shall rest from long labors at noon: Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean. On the brink of the night and the morning
My coursers are wont to respire; But the earth has just whispered a warning
15 That their flight must be swifter than
fire: They shall drink the hot speed of de
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soonSleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved NightSwift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!
From Act II, SCENE V Voice in the Air, singing: Life of Life! thy
lips enkindle With their love the breath between
them; And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes 5 Faints, entangled in their mazes. Child of Light! thy limbs are burning Through the vest which seems to hide
them; As the radiant lines of morning Through the clouds ere they divide
But thy voice sounds low and tender Like the fairest, for it folds thee 15
From the sight, that liquid splendor,
Its dim shapes are clad with brightness, And the souls of whom thou lovest
Walk upon the winds with lightness,
From Act II, SCENES IV AND V Spirit of the Hour: My coursers are fed
with the lightning, They drink of the whirlwind's stream, And when the red morning is bright’ning
They bathe in the fresh sunbeam; They have strength for their swiftness I deem,
5 Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean.
From Act IV
I desire: and their speed makes night
kindle; I fear: they outstrip the Typhoon;
Here, oh, here
We bear the bier
5 We bear Time to his tomb in eternity.