And leave, if nought so bright may live, Saturn and Love their long repose Shall burst, more bright and good Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, O cease! must hate and death return? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn The world is weary of the past, 78. Stanzas. Written in Dejection, near Naples. I. THE sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. II. I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown : I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Arises from its measured motion, How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. III. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around, Nor that content surpassing wealth And walked with inward glory crowned Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround Smiling they live and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. IV. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; Which I have borne and yet must bear, My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. V. Some might lament that I were cold, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, They might lament for I am one Whom men love not, and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory 79. yet. The Indian Serenade: I. I ARISE from dreams of thee Hath led me who knows how? II. The wandering airs they faint 80. And the Champak's odours fail As I must on thine, O! beloved as thou art! III. O lift me from the grass! Let thy love in kisses rain To I. I FEAR thy kisses, gentle maiden, Thou needest not fear mine; My spirit is too deeply laden Ever to burthen thine. |