And the sunlight clasps the earth And the moonbeams kiss the sea: Fragment: Song of the Furies I. HEN a lover clasps his fairest, rarest. Their caresses were like the chaff In the tempest, and be our laugh II. When a mother clasps her child, An Exhortation HAMELEONS feed on light and air: Poets' food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they, Would they ever change their hue As the light chameleons do, Suiting it to every ray Twenty times a day? Poets are on this cold earth, Fame is love disguised if few Find either, never think it strange That poets range. Yet dare not stain with wealth or power ARISE from dreams of thee low, And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet The wandering airs they faint The nightingale's complaint, O! beloved as thou art! III. Oh lift me from the grass! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. Oh! press it to thine own again, Where it will break at last. CANCELLED PASSAGE OF THE INDIAN SERENADE O pillow cold and wet with tears! |