HEAP cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,
Smeard with dull nard
an Indian wipes
From out her hair: such balsam falls
Down sea-side mountain pedestals,
where tired winds are fain,
Spent with the vast and howling main,
To treasure half their island-gain.
And strew faint sweetness from some old
Egyptians fine worm-eaten shroud
to dust when once unrolld;
Or shredded perfume, like a cloud
From closet long to quiet vowd,
and dropping arras hung,
Mouldering her lute and books among,
As when a queen, long dead, was young.
OVER the sea our galleys went,
With cleaving prows in order brave
To a speeding wind and
a bounding wave
A gallant armament:
Each bark built out of a forest-tree
Left leafy and rough as first
And naild all over the gaping sides,
Within and without, with black bull-hides,
Seethed in fat and
suppled in flame,
To bear the playful billows game;
So, each good ship was rude to see,
Rude and bare
to the outward view.
But each upbore a stately tent
Where cedar pales in scented row
Kept out the flakes
of the dancing brine,
And an awning droopd the mast below,
In fold on fold of the purple fine,
noontide nor star-shine
Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad,
Might pierce the regal tenement.
the sun dawnd, O, gay and glad
We set the sail and plied the oar;
But when the night-wind blew like
For joy of one days voyage more,
We sang together on the wide sea,
Like men at peace on a
Each sail was loosed to the wind so free,
Each helm made sure by the twilight star,
in a sleep as calm as death,
We, the voyagers from afar,
Lay stretchd along, each weary crew
In a circle
round its wondrous tent
Whence gleamd soft light and curld rich scent,
And with light and perfume, music
So the stars wheeld round, and the darkness past,
And at morn we started beside the mast,
each ship was sailing fast!
Now, one morn, land appearda speck
Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky
Avoid it, cried
our pilot, check
The shout, restrain the eager eye!
But the heaving sea was black behind
For many a
night and many a day,
And land, though but a rock, drew nigh
So we broke the cedar pales away,
purple awning flap in the wind.
And a statue bright was on every deck!
We shouted, every man of us,
steerd right into the harbour thus,
With pomp and pæan glorious.
A hundred shapes of lucid stone!
All day we built its shrine for each,
A shrine of rock for every
Nor paused till in the westering sun
We sat together on the beach
To sing because our task was
When lo! what shouts and merry songs!
What laughter all the distance stirs!
A loaded raft with happy
Of gentle islanders!
Our isles are just at hand, they cried,
Like cloudlets faint in even sleeping;
temple-gates are opend wide,
Our olive-groves thick shade are keeping
For these majestic formsthey
O, then we awoke with sudden start
From our deep dream, and knew, too late,
How bare the rock,
Which had received our precious freight:
Yet we calld outDepart!
Our gifts, once given,
must here abide:
Our work is done; we have no heart
To mar our work,we cried.
THUS the Mayne glideth
Where my Love abideth;
Sleeps no softer: it proceeds
lawns, on through meads,
On and on, whateer befall,
Meandering and musical,
Though the niggard pasturage
not on its shaven ledge
Aught but weeds and waving grasses
To view the river as it passes,
and there a scanty patch
Of primroses too faint to catch
A weary bee. ... And scarce it pushes
way through strangling rushes
Where the glossy kingfisher
Flutters when noon-heats are near,
shelving banks to shun,
Red and steaming in the sun,
Where the shrew-mouse with pale throat
and the speckled stoat;
Where the quick sandpipers flit
In and out the marl and grit
That seems to breed
them, brown as they:
Naught disturbs its quiet way,
Save some lazy stork that springs,
Trailing it with legs
Whom the shy fox from the hill
Rouses, creep he neer so still.