Chamber Music | Page 5

slumber and
from death,
For lo! the treees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the
morn admonisheth.
Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Where softly-burning fires
appear,
Making to tremble all those veils
Of grey and golden
gossamer.

While sweetly, gently, secretly,
The flowery bells of morn are stirred

And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.
XVI
O cool is the valley now
And there, love, will we go
For many a
choir is singing now
Where Love did sometime go.
And hear you
not the thrushes calling,
Calling us away?
O cool and pleasant is the
valley
And there, love, will we stay.
XVII
Because your voice was at my side
I gave him pain,
Because within
my hand I held
Your hand again.
There is no word nor any sign
Can make amend -- -
He is a stranger
to me now
Who was my friend.
XVIII
O Sweetheart, hear you
Your lover's tale;
A man shall have sorrow

When friends him fail.
For he shall know then
Friends be untrue
And a little ashes
Their
words come to.
But one unto him
Will softly move
And softly woo him
In ways
of love.
His hand is under
Her smooth round breast;
So he who has sorrow

Shall have rest.
XIX
Be not sad because all men
Prefer a lying clamour before you:

Sweetheart, be at peace again -- -
Can they dishonour you?

They are sadder than all tears;
Their lives ascend as a continual sigh.

Proudly answer to their tears:
As they deny, deny.
XX
In the dark pine-wood
I would we lay,
In deep cool shadow
At
noon of day.
How sweet to lie there,
Sweet to kiss,
Where the great pine-forest

Enaisled is!
Thy kiss descending
Sweeter were
With a soft tumult
Of thy hair.
O unto the pine-wood
At noon of day
Come with me now,
Sweet
love, away.
XXI
He who hath glory lost, nor hath
Found any soul to fellow his,

Among his foes in scorn and wrath
Holding to ancient nobleness,

That high unconsortable one -- -
His love is his companion.
XXII
Of that so sweet imprisonment
My soul, dearest, is fain -- -
Soft
arms that woo me to relent
And woo me to detain.
Ah, could they
ever hold me there
Gladly were I a prisoner!
Dearest, through interwoven arms
By love made tremulous,
That
night allures me where alarms
Nowise may trouble us;
But lseep to
dreamier sleep be wed
Where soul with soul lies prisoned.
XXIII
This heart that flutters near my heart
My hope and all my riches is,

Unhappy when we draw apart
And happy between kiss and kiss:


My hope and all my riches -- - yes! -- -
And all my happiness.
For there, as in some mossy nest
The wrens will divers treasures keep,

I laid those treasures I possessed
Ere that mine eyes had learned to
weep.
Shall we not be as wise as they
Though love live but a day?
XXIV
Silently she's combing,
Combing her long hair
Silently and
graciously,
With many a pretty air.
The sun is in the willow leaves
And on the dapplled grass,
And still
she's combing her long hair
Before the looking-glass.
I pray you, cease to comb out,
Comb out your long hair,
For I have
heard of witchery
Under a pretty air,
That makes as one thing to the lover
Staying and going hence,
All
fair, with many a pretty air
And many a negligence.
XXV
Lightly come or lightly go:
Though thy heart presage thee woe,

Vales and many a wasted sun,
Oread let thy laughter run,
Till the
irreverent mountain air
Ripple all thy flying hair.
Lightly, lightly -- - ever so:
Clouds that wrap the vales below
At the
hour of evenstar
Lowliest attendants are;
Love and laughter
song-confessed
When the heart is heaviest.
XXVI
Thou leanest to the shell of night,
Dear lady, a divining ear.
In that
soft choiring of delight
What sound hath made thy heart to fear?

Seemed it of rivers rushing forth
From the grey deserts of the north?

That mood of thine
Is his, if thou but scan it well,
Who a mad tale
bequeaths to us
At ghosting hour conjurable -- -
And all for some
strange name he read
In Purchas or in Holinshed.
XXVII
Though I thy Mithridates were,
Framed to defy the poison-dart,
Yet
must thou fold me unaware
To know the rapture of thy heart,
And I
but render and confess
The malice of thy tenderness.
For elegant and antique phrase,
Dearest, my lips wax all too wise;

Nor have I known a love whose praise
Our piping poets solemnize,

Neither a love where may not be
Ever so little falsity.
XXVIII
Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside
sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.
Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In
the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.
XXIX
Dear heart, why will you use me so?
Dear eyes that gently me
upbraid,
Still are you beautiful -- - but O,
How is your beauty
raimented!
Through the clear mirror of your eyes,
Through the soft sigh of kiss
to kiss,
Desolate winds assail with cries
The shadowy garden where
love is.
And soon shall love dissolved be
When over us the wild winds blow
-- -
But you, dear love, too dear to me,
Alas! why will you use me

so?
XXX
Love came to us in