From the planet that hovers upon the shore If the land, and the air, and the sea She is still, she is cold On the bridal couch, One step to the white death-bed, And one to the bier, And one to the charnel—and one, O where ? The dark arrow fled In the noon. Ere the sun through heaven once more has rolled, The rats in her heart Will have made their nest, And the worms be alive in her golden hair, While the spirit that guides the sun, Sits throned in his flaming chair, She shall sleep. EVENING. PONTE A MARE, PISA. I. THE sun is set; the swallows are asleep; The bats are flitting fast in the grey air ; The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep, And evening's breath, wandering here and there Over the quivering surface of the stream, Wakes not one ripple from its summer dream. II. There is no dew on the dry grass to-night, And in the inconstant motion of the breeze III. Within the surface of the fleeting river The wrinkled image of the city lay, Immovably unquiet, and for ever It trembles, but it never fades away; Go to the ... You, being changed, will find it then as now. IV. The chasm in which the sun has sunk is shut TO-MORROW. I. WHERE art thou, beloved To-morrow? In thy place ah! well-a-day! We find the thing we fled - To-day. II. If I walk in Autumn's even Summer's clouds, where are they now? MUSIC. I. I PANT for the music which is divine, II. Let me drink of the spirit of that sweet sound, It loosens the serpent which care has bound The dissolving strain, through every vein, III. As the scent of a violet withered up, Which grew by the brink of a silver lake; When the hot noon has drained its dewy cup, And mist there was none its thirst to slake And the violet lay dead while the odour flew On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue — IV. As one who drinks from a charmèd cup Of foaming, and sparkling and murmuring wine, Whom, a mighty Enchantress filling up, Invites to love with her kiss divine. THE ZUCCA. I. SUMMER was dead and Autumn was expiring, Had left the earth bare as the wave-worn sand II. Summer was dead, but I yet lived to weep And on the Earth lulled in her winter sleep |