When will the hundred summers die, And thought and time be born again, And newer knowledge, drawing nigh, Bring truth that sways the soul of men ? Here all things in their place remain, As all were order'd, ages since. Come, Care and Pleasure, Hope and Pain, And bring the fated fairy Prince. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. YEAR after year unto her feet, She lying on her couch alone, Across the purpled coverlet, The maiden's jet-black hair has grown, On either side her tranced form Forth streaming from a braid of pearl : The slumbrous light is rich and warm, And moves not on the rounded curl. The silk star-broider'd coverlid Unto her limbs itself doth mould Languidly ever; and, amid Her full black ringlets downward roll'd, Glows forth each softly-shadow'd arm With bracelets of the diamond bright : Her constant beauty doth inform Stillness with love, and day with light. She sleeps her breathings are not heard. That lie upon her charmed heart. The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest : She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest. THE ARRIVAL. ALL precious things, discover'd late, For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the veil from hidden worth. He travels far from other skies His mantle glitters on the rocks— A fairy Prince, with joyful eyes, And lighter-footed than the fox. The bodies and the bones of those Are wither'd in the thorny close, Or scatter'd blanching in the grass. He gazes on the silent dead: They perish'd in their daring deeds.' This proverb flashes thro' his head, "The many fail: the one succeeds." He comes, scarce knowing what he seeks : He breaks the hedge: he enters there : The colour flies into his cheeks: He trusts to light on something fair; For all his life the charm did talk About his path, and hover near With words of promise in his walk, More close and close his footsteps wind; The magic music in his heart Beats quick and quicker, till he find The quiet chamber far apart. His spirit flutters like a lark, He stoops-to kiss her-on his knee. "Love, if thy tresses be so dark, How dark those hidden eyes must be !" THE REVIVAL. A TOUCH, a kiss! the charm was snapt. A breeze thro' all the garden swept, The hedge broke in, the banner blew, The fire shot up, the martin flew, The parrot scream'd, the peacock squall'd, The maid and page renew'd their strife, The palace bang'd, and buzz'd and clackt, And all the long-pent stream of life Dash'd downward in a cataract. |