TITHONUS. THE Woods decay, the woods decay and fall, Consumes I wither slowly in thine arms, A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn. Alas! for this gray shadow, once a manSo glorious in his beauty and thy choice, Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem'd To his great heart none other than a God! Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile, Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet for all? A soft air fans the cloud apart; there comes A glimpse of that dark world where I was born. manes, And beat the twilight into flakes of fire. Lo ever thus thou growest beautiful Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? 'The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.' Ay me! ay me! with what another heart In days far-off, and with what other eyes I used to watch-if I be he that watch'd The lucid outline forming round thee; saw Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood Glow with the glow that slowly crimson'd all Yet hold me not for ever in thine East: Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam |