Just as he grasped it! For himself, death's wave; While time first washes O'er all he 'd sink to save. ah, the sting! VII. AMONG THE ROCKS. I. Он, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth; Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet. II. That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true; If Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. you loved only what were worth your love, Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you: Make the low nature better by your throes! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above! VIII. BESIDE THE DRAWING-BOARD. I. "As like as a Hand to another Hand! To fear, almost, of the limit-line ! II. "T is a clay cast, the perfect thing, To fancy's eye, by which we know The beauty in this, how free, how fine Long ago the god, like me The worm, learned, each in our degree: His art he placed the ring that's there, In token of a marriage rare : For him on earth, his art's despair, III. Little girl with the poor coarse hand I have my lesson, understand The worth of flesh and blood at last! Because he could not change the hue, To this which met his soul's demand, — Confessed. Because the beauty, she thinks best, Of flesh and bone and nerve beneath "I love, shall that be life's strait dole? I must live beloved or die!' This peasant hand that spins the wool Go, little girl with the poor coarse hand! IX. ON DECK. I. THERE is nothing to remember in me, Nothing I was that deserves a place II. Conceded! In turn, concede to me, Such things have been as a mutual flame. Your soul's locked fast; but, love for a key, You might let it loose, till I grew the same In your eyes, as in mine you stand: strange plea! III. For then, then, what would it matter to me It was ever so since the world begun : IV. How strange it were if you had all me, Will hold mine yet, from over the sea! V. Strange, if a face, when you thought of me, Much such a mouth, and as bright a brow, VI. Well, you may, you must, set down to me A passion to stand as your thoughts approve, VII. But did one touch of such love for me Could I fancy "As I feel, thus feels He;" VIII. Why, fade you might to a thing like me, And your hair grow these coarse hanks of hair, Your skin, this bark of a gnarled tree, You might turn myself! should I know or care, When I should be dead of joy, James Lee? GOLD HAIR. A STORY OF PORNIC. I. Он, the beautiful girl, too white, Who lived at Pornic, down by the sea, II. Too white, for the flower of life is red; III. Yet earth saw one thing, one how fair! One grace that grew to its full on earth: Smiles might be sparse on her cheek so spare, And her waist want half a girdle's girth, But she had her great gold hair. IV. Hair, such a wonder of flix and floss, Freshness and fragrance floods of it, too! Gold, did I say? Nay, gold's mere dross : Here, Life smiled, "Think what I meant to do!" And Love sighed, "Fancy my loss!" V. So, when she died, it was scarce more strange |