Then wake thee, my Lady-love, Bird of my bower!

The sweetest and sleepiest Bird at this hour!

[Decoration]

[Decoration]

LORD DE TABLEY.

1835.

_A WINTER SKETCH._

When the snow begins to feather, And the woods begin to roar Clashing angry boughs together, As the breakers grind the sh.o.r.e Nature then a bankrupt goes, Full of wreck and full of woes.

When the swan for warmer forelands Leaves the sea-firth's icebound edge, When the gray geese from the morelands Cleave the clouds in noisy wedge, Woodlands stand in frozen chains, Hung with ropes of solid rains.

Shepherds creep to byre and haven, Sheep in drifts are nipped and numb; Some belated rook or raven Rocks upon a sign-post dumb; Mere-waves, solid as a clod, Roar with skaters, thunder-shod.

All the roofs and chimneys rumble; Roads are ridged with slush and sleet; Down the orchard apples tumble; Ploughboys stamp their frosty feet; Millers, jolted down the lanes, Hardly feel for cold their reins.

Snipes are calling from the trenches, Frozen half and half at flow; In the porches servant wenches Work with shovels at the snow; Rusty blackbirds, weak of wing, Clean forget they once could sing.

Dogs and boys fetch down the cattle, Deep in mire and powdered pale; Spinning-wheels commence to rattle; Landlords spice the smoking ale.

Hail, white winter, lady fine, In a cup of elder wine!

[Decoration]

_THE SECOND MADRIGAL._

Woo thy la.s.s while May is here; Winter vows are colder.

Have thy kiss when lips are near; To-morrow you are older.

Think, if clear the throstle sing, A month his note will thicken; A throat of gold in a golden spring At the edge of the snow will sicken.

Take thy cup and take thy girl, While they come for asking; In thy heyday melt the pearl At the love-ray basking.

Ale is good for careless bards, Wine for wayworn sinners.

They who hold the strongest cards Rise from life as winners.

[Decoration]

AUBREY DE VERE.

1788-1846.

_SONG._

I.

Softly, O midnight Hours!

Move softly o'er the bowers Where lies in happy sleep a girl so fair!

For ye have power, men say, Our hearts in sleep to sway, And cage cold fancies in a moonlight snare.

Round ivory neck and arm Enclasp a separate charm: Hang o'er her poised; but breathe nor sigh nor prayer: Silently ye may smile, But hold your breath the while, And let the wind sweep back your cloudy hair!

II.

Bend down your glittering urns Ere yet the dawn returns, And star with dew the lawn her feet shall tread; Upon the air rain balm; Bid all the woods be calm; Ambrosial dreams with healthful slumbers wed.

That so the Maiden may With smiles your care repay When from her couch she lifts her golden head; Waking with earliest birds, Ere yet the misty herds Leave warm 'mid the grey gra.s.s their dusky bed.

[Decoration]

_SONG._

Seek not the tree of silkiest bark And balmiest bud, To carve her name--while yet 't is dark-- Upon the wood!

The world is full of n.o.ble tasks And wreaths hard-won: Each work demands strong hearts, strong hands, Till day is done.

Sing not that violet-veined skin, That cheek's pale roses; The lily of that form wherein Her soul reposes!

Forth to the fight, true man, true knight!

The clash of arms Shall more prevail than whispered tale To win her charms.

The warrior for the True, the Right, Fights in Love's name: The love that lures thee from that fight Lures thee to shame.

That love which lifts the heart, yet leaves The spirit free,-- That love, or none, is fit for one, Man-shaped like thee.

[Decoration]

_SONG._

I.

When I was young, I said to Sorrow, "Come, and I will play with thee:"-- He is near me now all day; And at night returns to say, "I will come again to-morrow, I will come and stay with thee."

II.

Through the woods we walk together; His soft footsteps rustle nigh me; To shield an unregarded head, He hath built a winter shed; And all night in rainy weather, I hear his gentle breathings by me.