And drive we not free

O'er the terrible sea,

I and thou?"

One boat-cloak did cover
The loved and the lover-

Their blood beats one measure,
They murmur proud pleasure
Soft and low;-

While around the lashed Ocean,
Like mountains in motion,
Is withdrawn and uplifted,

Sunk, shattered and shifted
To and fro.

IV.

In the court of the fortress

Beside the pale portress,

Like a bloodhound well beaten

The bridegroom stands, eaten

By shame;

On the topmost watch-turret,
As a death-boding spirit,
Stands the gray tyrant father,

To his voice the mad weather
Seems tame;

And with curses as wild
As e'er clung to child,

He devotes to the blast

The best, loveliest and last
Of his name!

To-morrow

WHERE art thou, beloved To-morrow?

When young and old and strong

and weak,

Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,

Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,—
In thy place ah! well-a-day!
We find the thing we fled-To-day.

To

I.

HEN passion's trance is overpast,

If tenderness and truth could last

Or live, whilst all wild feelings
keep

Some mortal slumber, dark and deep,
I should not weep, I should not weep!

II.

It were enough to feel, to see,

Thy soft eyes gazing tenderly,

And dream the rest- and burn and be

The secret food of fires unseen,

Couldst thou but be as thou hast been.

The woodland violets reappear,

All things revive in field or grove,

And sky and sea, but two, which move,

And form all others, life and love.

ARELY, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!

Wherefore hast thou left me now

Many a day and night?

Many a weary night and day 'Tis since thou art fled away.

II.

How shall ever one like me

Win thee back again?

With the joyous and the free

Thou wilt scoff at pain.

Spirit false thou hast forgot

All but those who need thee not.

III.

As a lizard with the shade

Of a trembling leaf,

Thou with sorrow art dismayed;

Even the sighs of grief

Reproach thee, that thou art not near, And reproach thou wilt not hear.

IV.

Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure,

Thou wilt never come for pity,

Thou wilt come for pleasure.

Pity then will cut away

Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.

V.

I love all that thou lovest,

Spirit of Delight!

The fresh Earth in new leaves drest,

And the starry night;

Autumn evening, and the morn

When the golden mists as born.