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How it hangs upon the trees；
A mystery of mysteries！ …
1827。
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A DREAM
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed
But a waking dreams of life and light
Hath left me broken…hearted。
Ah！ what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past？
That holy dream that holy dream；
While all the world were chiding；
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding。
What though that light； thro' storm and night；
So trembled from afar…
What could there be more purely bright
In Truths day…star ？
1827。
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ROMANCE
ROMANCE； who loves to nod and sing；
With drowsy head and folded wing；
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake；
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been … a most familiar bird …
Taught me my alphabet to say …
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie；
A child … with a most knowing eye。
Of late； eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by；
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky。
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon thy spirit flings …
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away … forbidden things！
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings。
1829。
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FAIRY…LAND
DIM vales … and shadowy floods …
And cloudy…looking woods；
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over
Huge moons there wax and wane …
Again … again … again …
Every moment of the night …
Forever changing places …
And they put out the star…light
With the breath from their pale faces。
About twelve by the moon…dial
One； more filmy than the rest
（A kind which； upon trial；
They have found to be the best）
Comes down … still down … and down
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain's eminence；
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets； over halls；
Wherever they may be …
O'er the strange woods … o'er the sea …
Over spirits on the wing …
Over every drowsy thing …
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light …
And then； how deep！ … O； deep！
Is the passion of their sleep。
In the morning they arise；
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies；
With the tempests as they toss；
Like almost any thing …
Or a yellow Albatross。
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before …
Videlicet a tent …
Which I think extravagant：
Its atomies； however；
Into a shower dissever；
Of which those butterflies；
Of Earth； who seek the skies；
And so come down again
（Never…contented things！）
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings。
1831。
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THE LAKE TO
IN spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
The which I could not love the less
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake； with black rock bound；
And the tall pines that tower'd around。
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot； as upon all；
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody
Then ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake。
Yet that terror was not fright；
But a tremulous delight
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define
Nor Love although the Love were thine。
Death was in that poisonous wave；
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake。
1827。
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EVENING STAR
'TWAS noontide of summer；
And midtime of night；
And stars； in their orbits；
Shone pale； through the light
Of the brighter； cold moon。
'Mid planets her slaves；
Herself in the Heavens；
Her beam on the waves。
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile；
Too cold…too cold for me
There passed； as a shroud；
A fleecy cloud；
And I turned away to thee；
Proud Evening Star；
In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be；
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night。；
And more I admire
Thy distant fire；
Than that colder； lowly light。
1827。
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〃THE HAPPIEST DAY。〃
I
THE happiest day…the happiest hour
My seared and blighted heart hath known；
The highest hope of pride and power；
I feel hath flown。
Of power！ said I？ Yes！ such I ween
But they have vanished long； alas！
The visions of my youth have been
But let them pass。
III
And pride； what have I now with thee？
Another brow may ev'n inherit
The venom thou hast poured on me
Be still my spirit！
IV
The happiest day…the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see…have ever seen
The brightest glance of pride and power
I feet have been：
V
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offered with the pain
Ev'n _then I _felt…that brightest hour
I would not live again：
VI
For on its wing was dark alloy
And as it fluttered…fell
An essence…powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well。
1827。
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IMITATION
A dark unfathom'd tide
Of interminable pride …
A mystery； and a dream；
Should my early life seem；
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild； and waking thought
Of beings that have been；
Which my spirit hath not seen；
Had I let them pass me by；
With a dreaming eye！
Let none of earth inherit
That vision on my spirit；
Those thoughts I would control
As a spell upon his soul：
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past；
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it pass'd on
I care not tho' it perish
With a thought I then did cherish。
1827。
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_Translation from the Greek_
HYMN TO ARISTOGE1TON AND HARMODIUS
I
WREATHED in myrtle； my sword I'll conceal
Like those champions devoted and brave；
When they plunged in the tyrant their steel；
And to Athens deliverance gave。
II
Beloved heroes！ your deathless souls roam
In the joy breathing isles of the blest；
Where the mighty of old have their home
Where Achilles and Diomed rest
III
In fresh myrtle my blade I'll entwine；
Like Harmodius； the gallant and good；
When he made at the tutelar shrine
A libation of Tyranny's blood。
IV
Ye deliverers of Athens from shame！
Ye avengers of Liberty's wrongs！
Endless ages shall cherish your fame；
Embalmed in their echoing songs！
1827。
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DREAMS
Oh！ that my young life were a lasting dream！
My spirit not awak'ning； till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow：
Yes！ tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow；
'Twere better than the dull reality
Of waking life to him whose heart shall be；
And hath been ever； on the chilly earth；
A chaos of deep passion from his birth ！
But should it be … that dream eternally
Continuing … as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood … should it thus be given；
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven！
For I have revell'd； when the sun was bright
In the summer sky； in dreamy fields of light；
And left unheedingly my very heart
In climes of mine imagining … apart
From mine own home； with beings that have been
Of mine own thought … what more could I have seen？
'Twas once & _only_ once & the wild hour
From my rememberance shall not pass … some power
Or spell had bound me … 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night & left behind
Its image on my spirit； or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly … or the stars … howe'er it was
That dream was as that night wind … let it pass。
I have been happy … tho' but in a dream
I have been happy … & I love the theme …
Dreams！ in their vivid colouring of life …
As in that fleeting； shadowy； misty strife
Of semblance with reality which brings
To the delirious eye more lovely things
Of Paradise & Love … & all our own！
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known。
｛From an earlier MS。 Than in the book …ED。｝
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〃IN YOUTH I HAVE KNOWN ONE〃
_How often we forget all time； when lone
Admiring Nature's universal throne；
Her woodsher wildsher mountains…the intense
Reply of Hers to Our intelligence！_
I I
IN youth I have known one with whom the Earth
In secret communing held…as he with it；
In daylight； and in beauty； from his birth：
Whose fervid； flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars； whence he had drawn forth
A passionate light such for his spirit was fit
And yet that spirit knew…not in the hour
Of its own fervor…what had o'er it power。
II
Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever* by the moonbeam that hangs o'er；
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told…or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence； and no more
That with a quickening spell doth o'er us pass
As dew of the night…time； o'er the summer grass？
III
Doth o'er us pass