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Stood, wan and pale, and with an unawed face, | The dreary melody of bedded reedsAmong his brothers of the mountain-chase. In desolate places, where dank moisture breed In midst of all, the venerable priest
The pipy hemlock to strange overgreuth Ey'd them with joy from greatest to the least, Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth And, after lifting up his aged hands, Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx-do thou as Thus spake he:-“Men of Latmos! shepherd By thy Love's milky brow!
By all the trembling mazes that she ran, Whose care it is to guard a thousand flocks: Hear us, great Pan! Whether descended from beneath the rocks That overtop your mountains; whether come From vallies where the pipe is never duinb; ,0 thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet turtle Or from your swelling downs, where sweet Passion their voices cooingly among myrtle
What time thou wanderest at eventide Blue bare-bells lightly, and where prickly Through sunny meadows, that outskirt thi furze
side Buds lavish gold; or ye, whose precious of thine enmossed realms: Othon, to when
Broad-leaved fig-trees even now foredoon Nibble their fill at ocean's very marge, Their ripen'd fruitage; yellow-girted bere Whose mellow reeds are touch'd with sounds Their golden honeycombs; our village-la
| Their fairest blossom'd beans and poppie By the dim echoes of old Triton's horn:
corn; Mothers and wives! who day by day prepare The chuckling linnet its five young unban The scrip, with needments, for the mountain- To sing for thee; low creeping strawberria
| Their summer-coolness; pent up butterflie And all ye, gentle girls, who foster up Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh buddin Udderless lambs, and in a little cup
year Will put choice honey for a favoured youth: All its completions—be quickly near, Yea, every one attend! for in good truth By every wind that nods the mouatain-pied Our vows are wanting to our great god Pan. O forester divine ! Are not our lowing heifers sleeker than Night-swollen mushrooms? Are not our wide
“Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flia Speckled with countless fleeces? Have not For willing service: whether to surprise
The squatted hare, while in half sleeping fit Green'd over April's lap? No howling sad Or upward ragged precipices flit, Sickens our fearful ewes; and we have had | To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw Great bounty from Endymion our lord. Or by mysterious enticement draw The earth is glad: the merry lark has pour'a Bewilder'd shepherds to their path again; His early song against yon breezy sky, Or to tread breathless round the frothy main That spreads so clear o'er our solemnity." And gather up all fancifullest shells
For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells,
And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping Thus ending, on the shrine he heap'd a spire Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping, or teeming sweets, enkindling sacred fire; The while they pelt each other on the cravi Anon he stain'd the thick and spongy sod W ith silvery oak-apples and fir-cones brownWith wine, in honour of the shepherd-god. By all the echoes that about thee ring, Now while the earth was drinking it, and Hear us, oh Satyr-king! Bay-leaves were crackling in the fragrant
"O Hearkener to the loud-clapping shear And gummy frankincense was sparkling While ever and anon to his shorn peers
A ram goes bleating: Winder of the bars 'Neath smothering parsley, and a hazy light When snouted wild boars routing tender com Spread grayly eastward, thus a chorus sang : Anger our huntsmen: Breather round
To keep off mildews, and all weather-hartai ) thou! whose mighty palace-roof doth Strange Ministrant of undescribed sounds
That come a swooning over hollow grounds From jagged trunks, and oversbadoweth And wither drearily on barren moors: Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life,death Dread Opener of the mysterious doors Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness; Leading to universal knowledge-see, Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress Great son of Dryope, Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels The many that are come to pay their rem
With leaves about their brows! And through whole solemn hours dost sit, Be still the unimaginable lodge
and hearken For solitary thinkings; such as dodge
onception to the very bourne of heaven, To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps then leave the naked brain: be still the Within its pearly house. The inighty deeps,
The monstrous sea is thine--the myriad sea! That spreading in this dull and clodded earth O Moon! far-spooming Ocean bows to thee, vives, it a touch ethereal-a new birth: And Tellus feels his forehead's cumbrous load. Be still a symbol of immensity;
firmament reflected in a sea; in element filling the space between; Cynthia! where art thou now? What far in unknown--but no more: we humbly
Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine With uplift hands our foreheads lowly Such utmost beauty? Alas! thou dost pine
For one as sorrowful: thy cheek is pale And giving out it shout most heaven-rending, For one whose cheek is pale: thou dost bewail Conjure thee to receive our humble Paean, His tears, who weeps for thee. Where dost pon thy Mount Lycean!"
thou sigh? Ah! surely that light peeps from Vesper's
eye, Cver while they brought the burden to a Or what a thing is love!" T'is She, but lo!
How changd, how full of ache, how gone shout from the whole multitude arone,
in woe! Chat lingered in the air like dying rolls She dies at the thinnest cloud; her loveliness »f abrupt thunder, when Ionian shoals Is wan on Neptune's blue: yet there's a stress Dfdolphins bob their noses through the brine. Of love-spangles, just off yon cape of trees, Teantime, on shady levels, morky fine, Dancing upon the waves, as if to please 'oung companies nimbly began dancing The curly foam with aniorous influence. To the swift treble pipe and hunming string. O, not so idle: for down-glancing thence lyc, those fair living forms swam heavenly She fathoms eddies, and runs wild about To tunes forgotten-out of memory : O'erwhelming water-courses; scaring out 'air creatures! whose young children's chil The thorny sharks from hiding-bolcs, and dren bred
fright'ning Thermopylae its heroes-not yet dead, Their savage eyes with unaccustomed lightBut in old marbles ever beautiful.
In gulf or aerie, mountains or deep dells,
In light, in gloom, in star or blazing sun, -By the fend
| Thou pointest out the way, and straight I'wixt nothing and creation, I here swear,
'tis won. Sterne Apollo ! that thy Sister fair
Amid his toil thou gav'st Leander breath; s of all these the gentlier mightiest. Thou leddest Orpheus through the gleams When thy gold breath is misting in the west,
of death; She unobserved steals unto her throne, 'Thou madest Pluto bear thin element; Ind there she sits most meek and most alone; And now, oh winged Chieftain, thou hast sent Is if she had not pomp subservient; A moon-beam to the deep, deep water-world, Is if thine eye, high Poet! was not bent To find Endymion. On gold sand impearl'd Towards her with the Muses in thine heart; With lily shells, and pebbles milky white, Is if the ministring stars kept not apart, Poor Cynthia greeted him, and sooth'd her Waiting for silver-footed messages.
light ) Moon! the oldest shades 'inong oldest trees Against his pallid face: he felt the charm Teel palpitations, when thou lookest in: To breathlessness, and suddenly a warın ) Moon! old boughs lisp forth a holier din of his heart's blood : 'twas very sweet; he The while they feel thine airy fellowship.
stay'd Thou dost bless every where with silver lip, His wandering steps, and half-entranced laid
issing dead things to life. The sleeping kine, His head upon a tuft of straggling weeds, Couched in thy brightness, dream of fields To taste the gentle moon, and freshening divine :
beads, nnumerable mountains rise, and rise, Lash'd from the crystal roof by fishes' tails. Imbitious for the hallowing of thine eyes; And so he kept until the rosy veils And yet thy benediction passeth not | Mantling the east, by Aurora's peering hand Dne obscure hiding-place, one little spot Were lifted from the water's breast, and Where pleasure may be sent: the nested wren
fana'd Tas thy fair face within its tranquil ken, Into sweet air; and sober'd morning came Ind from bencath a sheltering isy-leaf Meekly through billows:--when like taperTakes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief !
Left sudden by a dallying breath of air, Thou wast my clarion's blast - thou will lle rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare
my steedAlong his fated way. Far had he roam'd, My goblet full of wine-my topmost deed:With nothing save the hollow vast, that Thou want the charm of women, lovely Man
O what a wild and barmonized tune Above, around, and at his feet; save things My spirit struck from all the beautiful! More dead than Morpheus' imaginings: On some bright essence could I lean, and lul Old rusted anchors, helmets, breast-plates Myself to immortality.
St. AGNES' Eve—Ah, bitter chill it was! But those of Saturn's vintage; inouldering The owl, for all his feathers, was a-rold;
The hare linip'd trembling through the fre Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls
zen grass, Who first were on the earth; and sculptures And silent was the flock in woolls fold;
Numb were the beadsman's fingers, while In ponderous stone, developing the mood
he told Of ancient Nox;-then skeletons of man, His rosary, and while his frosted breath, or beast, behemoth, and leviathan,
Like pious incense from a censer old, And elephant and eagle, and huge jaw Seem'd taking flight for heaven, withont a Of nameless monster. A cold leaden awe
death, These secrets struck into him; and unless Past the sweet virgin's picture while ba Dian had chac'd away that heaviness,
prayer he saith. He might have died: but now, with cheered
feel, He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to His prayer he saith, this patient holy man:
Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees About the labyrinth in his soul of love. And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan, What is there in thee, Moon! that thou Along the chapel-aisle by slow degrees :
shouldet move The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem ta My heart so potently? When yet a child
freeze, I oft have dried my tears when thou hast Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails:
Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries, Thou seem’dst my sister; hand in hand weHe panseth by; and his weak spirit fails
| To think how they may ache in icy hords From eve to morn across the firmament.
and mails. No apples would I gather from the tree, Till thou hadst cool'd their cheeks delici
Northward he turneth through a little door No tumbling water ever spake romance, And scarce three steps, ere music's golden But when my eyes with thine thereon could
Flatter'd to tears this aged man and pear: No woods were green enough, no bower But no-already had his death-bell rang:
The joys of all his life were said and sung Until thou liftedst up thine eyelids fine: His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Evel In sowing-time ne'er would I dibble take, Another way he went, and soon among Or drop a seed, till thou wast wide awake; Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve, And, in the summer-tide of blossoming, And all night kept awake, for sinners' wald No one but thee hath heard me blithely sing
to grieve. And mesh my dewy flowers all the night, No melody was like a passing spright, If it went not to solemnize thy reign. That ancient beadsman heard the prelude rol: Yes, in my boyhood, every joy and pain And so it chanc'd, for many a door was wide By thee were fashiond to the self-same end; From hurry to and fro. Soon, up aloft. And as I grew in years, still didst thou blend | The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide With all my ardours : thou wast the deep The level chambers, ready with their pride
| Were glowing to receive a thousand guests Thou wast the mountain-top-the sage's The carved angels, ever eager-eyed,
Star'd, where upon their heads the court The poet's harp--the voice of friends - the
With hair blown back, and wings put crna Thou wast the river-thou wast glory won;/
wise on their breast
It length burst in the argent revelry, Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords,
Save one old beldame, weak in body and in of old romance. These let us wish away,
soul. And turn, sole-thoughted, to one lady there, Whose heart had brooded all that wintry day, On love, and wing'd St. Agnes' saintly care, Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came, Is she heard old dames full inany times Shuffing along with ivory-headed wand, declare.
To where he stood, hid from the torch's
flame, They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,
Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond loung virgins might have visions of delight,
The sound of merriment and chorus bland: Ind soft adorings from their loves receive
He startled her; but soon she knew his face, Jpon the honey'd middle of the night,
And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand, f ceremonies due they did aright;
Saying: Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from 16, supperless to bed they must retire,
this place ; Ind couch supine their beauties, lily white;
They are all here to-night, the whole bloodNor look behind, nor sideways, but require
thirsty race! Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire. Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish
Hildebrand; Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline: He had a fever late, and in the fit The music, yearning like a god in pain, He cursed thee and thine, both house and jhe scarcely heard : her maiden eyes divine
land; Pix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a 'ass by-she heeded not at all: in vain Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier, More tame for his gray hairs-Alas me! Alit! Ind back retir'd; not cool'd by high disdain, Flit like a ghost away."-"Ah, Gossip dear, But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere: We're safe enough; here in this arm-chair sit, She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest And tell me how"-"Good saints! not here, of the year.
Follow me, child, or else these stones will ihe danc'd along with vague, regardless eyes,
be thy bier." Inxious her lips, her breathing quick and
short: The ballow'd hour was near at hand : she
He follow'd through a lowly arched way, sighs
Brushing the cobwebs with his lofty plume, Linid the timbrels, and the throng'd resort
And as she mutter'd “Well-a-well-a-day!” Df whisperers in anger, or in sport;
He found him in a little moonlight-room, Tid looks of love, defiance, hate and scorn,
Pale, lattic'd, chill, and silent as a tomb.
*Now tell me where is Madeline,-said heloodwink'd with faery fancy; all amort,
O tell me, Angela, by the holy loom
Which none but secret sisterhood may see,
: 1.St. Agnes! ah! it is St. Agnes' EveIad come young Porphyro, with heart on fire for Madeline. Beside the portal-doors,
Yet men will murder upon holy days:
Thou must hold water in a witch's sieve, Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores
And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays,
To venture so: it fills me with amaze I'll saints to give him sight of Madeline,
| To see thee, Porphyro !-St. Agnes' Eve! But for one moment in the trdious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen;
God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays
This very night: good angels her deceive! 'erchance speak, kneel, touch, kissmin sooth
But let me laugh awhile, I've mickle time such things have been.
le ventures in: let not buzz'd whisper tell: ul eyes be muffled, or a hundred swords Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon, Will storm his heart, love's fev 'rous citadel: While Porphyro upon her face doth look, for him, those chambers held barbarian Like pazzled nrchin on an aged rrone hordes,
| Who kecpeth clos'd a wondrous riddle-book, A. spectacled she sits in chimney-pook. For I am slow and ferlite, and e But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she On such a catering trust ar tiz hem told
| Wait here, my child with parke His lady's purpose, and he scarce could brook Teare, at the thought of those enchantments 'Tbe while: ah! thou must meet the inte cold.
Or may I never leave m Szant am And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.
Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose. So saying, sbe hobbied off vi ke
From (right of dim espial Safe z
His poor guide hurried hack with agai
"I will not harm her, by all saints I swear!” Quoth Porphyro: "0) may I ne'er find grace, Her falt'ring hand upon the balustrade, When my weak voice shall whisper its last Old Angela was feeling for the stair. prayer,
When Madeline, St. Agnes charmed mail. If one of her soft ringlets I displace, Rose, like a mission'd spirit, unawart: Or look with ruffian passion in her face: With silver taper's light, and pear care. Good Angela, believe me by these tears; She turn'd, and down the aged gossip k Or I will, even in a moment's space, To a safe level matting. Nov prepare Awake with horrid shout my foemen's ears, Young Porphyro, for gazing on that bed; And beard them, though they be more She comes, she comes again, like ring-dest fang'd than wolves and bears."
frayed and find
"Ah! why wilt thou aflright a feeble soul? Out went the taper as she hurried in; A poor, weak, palsy-ktricken, churchyard-Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, die thing,
She closed the door, she panted, all alie Whone passing-bell may ere the midnight toll; To spirits of the air and visions wide: Whose prayers for thee, each morn and No uttered syllable, or, woe betide! evening,
| But to her heart, her heart was voluble. Were never miss'd.”_Thus plaining, doth Paining with eloquence her balmy side: she bring
As though a tongueless nightingale shell A gentler speech from burning Porphyro;
swell So woeful, and of such deep sorrowing, Her tbroat in vain, and die, heart-stile That Angela gives promise she will do
in her dell Whatever he shall wish, betide her weal or woe.
A casement high and triple-arch'd there was
All garlanded with carven imag‘ries Which war, to lead him, in close secrecy, of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of km Even to Madeline's chamber, and there hide
• grans, Ilim in a closet, of such privacy
| And diamonded with panes of quaint device. That he might see her beauty unespied, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes And win perhaps that night a peerless bride, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask # wings While legion'd fairies pac'd the coverlet, And in the unidst, 'mong thousand heraldrin And pale enchantinent held her sleepy-eyed. And twilight saints, and dim emblazonin Never on such a night have lovers inet, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blond et Since Merlin paid his Demon all the mon
queens and kinga strous debt.
Full on this casement shone the wintry was "It shall beus ilou wishest, -said the dame: And threw warm gules on Madeline for All cates and daintice shall be stored there
breast. Quickly on this feast-night: by the tanı bour- As down she knelt for Heaven's grare un frame
bnon; Her own lute thou wilt see: no time to sparc, Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together pro