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I DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring, And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,
Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets ;
Faint oxlips; tender bluebells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved ; and that tall flower that wets
Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth — Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears, When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears.
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
Green cow-bind and the moonlight-coloured May, And cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wine
Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray; And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, Fairer than
And nearer to the river's trembling edge
And floating water-lilies, broad and bright,
With moonlight beams of their own watery light ;
Methought that of these visionary flowers
I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours
Within my hand, and then, elate and I hastened to the spot whence I had come, That I might there present it! - Ob! to whom?
Which severs those it should unite;
Then it will be good night.
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?
Then it will be good night.
To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
They never say good night.
HYMN OF APOLLO.
Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries,
Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes, Waken me when their Mother, the grey Dawn, Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone.
Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome,
I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam ;
My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves Are filled with my bright presence, and the air Leaves the green earth to my embraces bare.
The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill
Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day;
Fly me, and from the glory of my ray
IV. I feed the clouds, the rainbows and the flowers
With their ætherial colours; the Moon's globe And the pure stars in their eternal bowers
Are cinctured with my power as with a robe; Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine, Are portions of one power, which is mine.
I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven,
Then with unwilling steps I wander down Into the clouds of the Atlantic even;
For grief that I depart they weep and frown: What look is more delightful than the smile With which I soothe them from the western isle ?
I am the eye with which the Universe
; All harmony of instrument or verse,
All prophecy, all medicine are mine,