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Year after year unto her feet,
She lying on her couch alone,
Across the purple coverlet,

The maiden's jet-black hair has grown, On either side her trancéd form

Forth streaming from a braid of pearl: The slumbrous light is rich and warm, And moves not on the rounded curl.

The silk star-broidered coverlid

Unto her limbs itself doth mould Languidly ever; and, amid

Her full black ringlets downward rolled, Glows forth each softly-shadowed arm With bracelets of the diamond bright: Her constant beauty doth inform

Stillness with love, and day with light.

She sleeps: her breathings are not heard
In palace chambers far apart.
The fragrant tresses are not stirred
That lie upon her charmed heart.
She sleeps on either hand upswells
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest:
She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells
A perfect form in perfect rest.


All precious things, discovered late,
To those that seek them issue forth;
For love in sequel works with fate,
And draws the veil from hidden worth.
He travels far from other skies-
His mantle glitters on the rocks

A fairy Prince, with joyful eyes,
And lighter-footed than the fox.

The bodies and the bones of those
That strove in other days to pass,
Are withered in the thorny close,
Or scattered blanching in the grass.
He gazes on the silent dead:


They perished in their daring deeds." This proverb flashes through his head, "The many fail: the one succeeds."

He comes, scarce knowing what he seeks: He breaks the hedge: he enters there : The color flies into his cheeks:

He trusts to light on something fair;
For all his life the charm did talk
About his path, and hover near
With words of promise in his walk,
And whispered voices at his ear.

More close and close his footsteps wind;
The magic music in his heart
Beats quick and quicker, till he find
The quiet chamber far apart.
His spirit flutters like a lark,

He stoops-to kiss her on his knee.

"Love, if thy tresses be so dark,

How dark those hidden eyes must be!"


A touch, a kiss! the charm was snapt. There rose a noise of striking clocks, And feet that ran, and doors that clapt, And barking dogs, and crowing cocks; A fuller light illumined all,

A breeze through all the garden swept,

A sudden hubbub shook the hall,
And sixty feet the fountain leapt.

The hedge broke in, the banner blew,
The butler drank, the steward scrawled,
The fire shot up, the martin flew,

The parrot screamed, the peacock squalled, The maid and page renewed their strife, The palace banged, and buzzed and clackt, And all the long-pent stream of life

Dashed downward in a cataract.

And last with these the king awoke,
And in his chair himself upreared,

And yawned, and rubbed his face, and spoke,
By holy rood, a royal beard!

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How say you? we have slept, my lords.
My beard has grown into my lap."
The barons swore, with many words,
'Twas but an after-dinner's nap.


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"Pardy," returned the king, "but still
My joints are something stiff or so.
My lord, and shall we pass the bill
I mentioned half an hour
The chancellor, sedate and vain,
In courteous words returned reply:
But dallied with his golden chain,
And, smiling, put the question by.


And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old:
Across the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,

And deep into the dying day
The happy princess followed him.

"I'd sleep another hundred years,

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O love, for such another kiss; "O wake forever, love," she hears, "O love, 'twas such as this and this." And o'er them many a sliding star, And many a merry wind was borne, And, streamed through many a golden bar, The twilight melted into morn.

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"O eyes long laid in happy sleep!
"O happy sleep, that lightly fled!
"O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!"
"O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!"
And o'er them many a flowing range
Of vapor buoyed the crescent-bark,
And, rapt through many a rosy change,
The twilight died into the dark.

"A hundred summers! can it be?
And whither goest thou, tell me where !
"O seek my father's court with me,
For there are greater wonders there."
And o'er the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
Beyond the night, across the day,
Through all the world she followed him.


So, Lady Flora, take my lay,
And if you find no moral there,
Go look in any glass and say,
What moral is in being fair.

O, to what uses shall we put

The wildweed-flower that simply blows? And is there any moral shut

Within the bosom of the rose?

But any man that walks the mead
In bud or blade, or bloom, may find,
According as his humors lead,

A meaning suited to his mind.
And liberal applications lie

In Art like Nature, dearest friend; So 'twere to cramp its use, if I Should hook it to some useful end.


You shake your head.

A random string

Your finer female sense offends.
Well-were it not a pleasant thing
To fall asleep with all one's friends;
pass with all our social ties


To silence from the paths of men; And every hundred years to rise

And learn the world, and sleep again; To sleep through terms of mighty wars, And wake on science grown to more, On secrets of the brain, the stars,

As wild as aught of fairy lore; And all that else the years will show, The Poet-forms of stronger hours, The vast Republics that may grow, The Federations and the Powers; Titanic forces taking birth

In divers seasons, divers climes; For we are Ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.

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