At life's best, with our eyes upturned Whither life's flower is first discerned,

We, fixed so, ever should so abide? What if we still ride on, we two, With life for ever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree, The instant made eternity,

And heaven just prove that I and she Ride, ride together, for ever ride?

MESMERISM.

I.

ALL I believed is true!

I am able yet

All I want, to get

By a method as strange as new:
Dare I trust the same to you?

II.

If at night, when doors are shut,
And the wood-worm picks,

And the death-watch ticks,

And the bar has a flag of smut,
And a cat's in the water-butt-

III.

And the socket floats and flares,
And the house-beams groan,
And a foot unknown

Is surmised on the garret-stairs,
And the locks slip unawares-

IV.

And the spider, to serve his ends,

By a sudden thread,

Arms and legs outspread,

On the table's midst descends,

Comes to find, God knows what friends !-

V.

If since eve drew in, I say,
I have sat and brought

(So to speak) my thought To bear on the woman away, Till I felt my hair turn grey

VI.

Till I seemed to have and hold,
In the vacancy

"Twixt the wall and me

From the hair-plait's chestnut-gold To the foot in its muslin fold

VII.

Have and hold, then and there,
Her, from head to foot,
Breathing and mute,

Passive and yet aware,

In the grasp of my steady stare

VIII.

Hold and have, there and then,
All her body and soul
That completes my whole,

((All that women add to men,
In the clutch of my steady ken-

IX.

Having and holding, till

I imprint her fast

On the void at last

As the sun does whom he will
By the calotypist's skill-

X.

Then,—if my heart's strength serve, And through all and each

Of the veils I reach

To her soul and never swerve,

Knitting an iron nerve

XV.

And must follow as I require,
As befits a thrall,

Bringing flesh and all,

Essence and earth-attire,

To the source of the tractile fire:

XVI.

Till the house called hers, not mine, With a growing weight

1

Seems to suffocate

If she break not its leaden line

And escape from its close confine.

XVII.

Out of doors into the night!

On to the maze

Of the wild wood-ways,

Not turning to left nor right

From the pathway, blind with sight

XVIII.

Making thro' rain and wind

O'er the broken shrubs,

'Twixt the stems and stubs,

With a still, composed, strong mind, Not a care for the world behind

XIX.

Swifter and still more swift,

As the crowding peace

Doth to joy increase

In the wide blind eyes uplift

Thro' the darkness and the drift!