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GOBLIN MARKET. Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dew
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IN THE ROUND TOWER AT JHANSI, A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
Not a hope in the world remained:
The swarming howling wretches below
Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wife:—
"Is the time come?"—"The time is come!"—
Young, strong, and so full of life:
The agony struck
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DREAM LAND Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmèd sleep:
Awake her not. Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot. She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs. Throu
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AT HOME. When I was dead, my spirit turned
To seek the much-frequented house:
I passed the door, and saw my friends
Feasting beneath the green orange boughs;
From hand to hand they pushed the wine,
They sucked the pulp of plum and peach;
They sang, they jested, and they laughed,
For each was loved o
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A TRIAD. Sonnet. Three sang of love together: one with lips
Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in a glow,
Flushed to the yellow hair and finger-tips;
And one there sang who soft and smooth as snow
Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at a show;
And one was blue with famine after love,
Who like a harpstring sn
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LOVE FROM THE NORTH. I had a love in soft south land,
Beloved through April far in May;
He waited on my lightest breath,
And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,
But gay he grew if I was gay;
We never differed on a hair,
My yes his yes, my nay his nay. The wedding hour was com
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WINTER RAIN. Every valley drinks,
Every dell and hollow:
Where the kind rain sinks and sinks,
Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks
Buds will burst their edges,
Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks,
In the woods and hedges; Weave a bower of love
For birds to meet each other,
Weave
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COUSIN KATE. I was a cottage maiden
Hardened by sun and air,
Contented with my cottage mates,
Not mindful I was fair. Why did a great lord find me out,
And praise my flaxen hair? Why did a great lord find me out
To fill my heart with care?
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NOBLE SISTERS. "Now did you mark a falcon,
Sister dear, sister dear,
Flying toward my window
In the morning cool and clear? With jingling bells about her neck,
But what beneath her wing? It may have been a ribbon,
Or it may have been a ring."—
"I marked a falcon swooping
At the break of day:
And for
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SPRING. Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots? Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death. Blows the thaw-wi
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THE LAMBS OF GRASMERE, 1860. The upland flocks grew starved and thinned:
Their shepherds scarce could feed the lambs
Whose milkless mothers butted them,
Or who were orphaned of their dams. The lambs athirst for mother's milk
Filled all the place with piteous sounds:
Their mothers' bones made white f
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A BIRTHDAY. My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an appletree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of
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REMEMBER. Sonnet. Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to
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AFTER DEATH. Sonnet. The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept. He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say:
"Poor child, poor
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AN END. Love, strong as Death, is dead. Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
A green turf at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Whereupon we may sit
In the quiet evening hours. He was born in the Spring,
And died before the harvesting:
On the last warm summer day
He left us; he would n
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MY DREAM. Hear now a curious dream I dreamed last night,
Each word whereof is weighed and sifted truth. I stood beside Euphrates while it swelled
Like overflowing Jordan in its youth:
It waxed and coloured sensibly to sight;
Till out of myriad pregnant waves there welled
Young crocodiles, a gaunt bl
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SONG Oh roses for the flush of youth,
And laurel for the perfect prime;
But pluck an ivy branch for me
Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,
And bay for those dead in their prime;
Give me the withered leaves I chose
Before in the old time.
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THE HOUR AND THE GHOST. BRIDE. O love, love, hold me fast,
He draws me away from thee;
I cannot stem the blast,
Nor the cold strong sea:
Far away a light shines
Beyond the hills and pines;
It is lit for me. BRIDEGROOM.
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A SUMMER WISH. Live all thy sweet life thro',
Sweet Rose, dew-sprent,
Drop down thine evening dew
To gather it anew
When day is bright:
I fancy thou wast meant
Chiefly to give delight. Sing in the silent sky,
Glad soaring bird;
Sing out thy notes on high
To sunbeam straying by
Or passing cloud;
Heed
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AN APPLE GATHERING. I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple tree
And wore them all that evening in my hair:
Then in due season when I went to see
I found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the grass
As I had come I went the selfsame track:
My neighbours mocked me while they saw me pass
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SONG. Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two butterflies upon one flower:—
Oh happy they who look on them. Who look upon them hand in hand
Flushed in the rosy summer light;
Who look upon them hand in hand
And never give a thought to night.
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MAUDE CLARE. Out of the church she followed them
With a lofty step and mien:
His bride was like a village maid,
Maude Clare was like a queen. "Son Thomas," his lady mother said,
With smiles, almost with tears:
"May Nell and you but live as true
As we have done for years; "Your father thirty years ag
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ECHO. Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have bee
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MY SECRET. I tell my secret? No indeed, not I:
Perhaps some day, who knows? But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!