"I cannot make this matter plain, But I would shoot, howe'er in vain, A random arrow from the brain. 66 It may be that no life is found, Which only to one engine bound Falls off, but cycles always round. "As old mythologies relate, Some draught of Lethe might await "As here we find in trances, men Forget the dream that happens then, Until they fall in trance again. "So might we, if our state were such As one before, remember much, For those two likes might meet and touch. 66 But, if I lapsed from nobler place, Some legend of a fallen race Alone might hint of my disgrace; "Some vague emotion of delight In gazing up an Alpine height, Some yearning toward the lamps of night. "Or if thro' lower lives I cameTho' all experience past became Consolidate in mind and frame "I might forget my weaker lot; For is not our first year forgot? The haunts of memory echo not. 66 And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind. "Much more, if first I floated free, As naked essence, must I be Incompetent of memory: "For memory dealing but with time, And he with matter, could she climb Beyond her own material prime? "Moreover, something is or seems, That touches me with mystic gleams, Like glimpses of forgotten dreams "Of something felt, like something here; Of something done, I know not where; Such as no language may declare." The still voice laugh'd. "I talk," said he, "Not with thy dreams. Suffice it thee Thy pain is a reality." 66 "But thou," said I, hast miss'd thy mark, Who sought'st to wreck my mortal ark, By making all the horizon dark. "Why not set forth, if I should do This rashness, that which might ensue With this old soul in organs new? Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath ""Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life, not death, for which we pant; More life, and fuller, that I want." I ceased, and sat as one forlorn. Then said the voice, in quiet scorn, 'Behold, it is the Sabbath morn." 66 And I arose, and I released The casement, and the light increased Like soften'd airs that blowing steal, On to God's house the people prest: One walk'd between his wife and child, The prudent partner of his blood And in their double love secure, These three made unity so sweet, I blest them, and they wander'd on: A second voice was at mine ear, 66 A murmur, Be of better cheer." As from some blissful neighbourhood "I see the end, and know the good." A little hint to solace woe, A hint, a whisper breathing low, 66 I may not speak of what I know." Like an Æolian harp that wakes Far thought with music that it makes: Such seem'd the whisper at my side: “What is it thou knowest, sweet voice?” I cried. A hidden hope," the voice replied: 66 So heavenly-toned, that in that hour To feel, altho' no tongue can prove, And forth into the fields I went, I wonder'd at the bounteous hours, You scarce could see the grass for flowers. I wonder'd, while I paced along: The woods were fill'd so full with song, And wherefore rather I made choice LXXVIII THE DAY-DREAM PROLOGUE O, LADY FLORA, let me speak : I went thro' many wayward moods Across my fancy, brooding warm, And loosely settled into form. And would you have the thought I had, And I will tell it. Turn your face, THE SLEEPING PALACE 1 THE varying year with blade and sheaf Clothes and reclothes the happy plains; Here rests the sap within the leaf, Here stays the blood along the veins. Faint shadows, vapours lightly curl'd, Faint murmurs from the meadows come, Like hints and echoes of the world To spirits folded in the womb. 2 Soft lustre bathes the range of urns Deep in the garden lake withdrawn. 3 Roof-haunting martins warm their eggs! More like a picture seemeth all Than those old portraits of old kings, That watch the sleepers from the wall. 4 Here sits the Butler with a flask Between his knees, half-drain'd; and there The wrinkled steward at his task, The maid-of-honour blooming fair : The page has caught her hand in his : His own are pouted to a kiss: The blush is fix'd upon her cheek. 5 Till all the hundred summers pass, The beams, that thro' the Oriel shine, And beaker brimm'd with noble wine. 6 All round a hedge upshoots, and shows And grapes with bunches red as blood |