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O happy tears, and how unlike to these! O happy heaven, how canst thou see my face?

O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight?

O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud,

There are enough unhappy on this earth, Pass by the happy souls, that love to live; I pray thee, pass before my light of life, And shadow all my soul, that I may die. Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, Weigh heavy on my eyelids; let me die. 240

'O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me, more and more,

Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear

She died; she went to burning flame;
She mix'd her ancient blood with shame.
The wind is howling in turret and tree.
Whole weeks and months, and early and
late,

To win his love I lay in wait.

O, the earl was fair to see!

I made a feast; I bade him come;
I won his love, I brought him home.

The wind is roaring in turret and tree.
And after supper, on a bed,
Upon my lap he laid his head.
O, the earl was fair to see!

I kiss'd his eyelids into rest,
His ruddy cheek upon my breast.

The wind is raging in turret and tree.
I hated him with the hate of hell,
But I loved his beauty passing well.
O, the earl was fair to see!

I rose up in the silent night;

I made my dagger sharp and bright.
The wind is raving in turret and tree.
As half-asleep his breath he drew,
Three times I stabb'd him thro' and thro'.
O, the earl was fair to see!

I curl'd and comb'd his comely head,
He look'd so grand when he was dead.
The wind is blowing in turret and tree.
I wrapt his body in the sheet,
And laid him at his mother's feet.
O, the earl was fair to see!

ΤΟ

WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM

'The Palace of Art' was printed, with this introduction, in 1833, but was much altered in 1842 and somewhat in more recent editions. See Notes.

I SEND you here a sort of allegory -
For you will understand it — of a soul,
A sinful soul possess'd of many gifts,
A spacious garden full of flowering weeds,
A glorious devil, large in heart and brain,
That did love beauty only beauty seen
In all varieties of mould and mind —
And knowledge for its beauty; or if good,
Good only for its beauty, seeing not
That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge are
three sisters

That doat upon each other, friends to man,
Living together under the same roof,
And never can be sunder'd without tears.
And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall

be

Shut out from Love, and on her threshold lie

Howling in outer darkness. Not for this Was common clay ta'en from the common earth

Moulded by God, and temper'd with the

tears

Of angels to the perfect shape of man.

THE PALACE OF ART

I BUILT my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.

I said, 'O Soul, make merry and carouse, Dear soul, for all is well.'

A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass,

I chose. The ranged ramparts bright From level meadow-bases of deep grass

Suddenly scaled the light.

Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf
The rock rose clear, or winding stair.
My soul would live alone unto herself
In her high palace there.