ï~~53 ï~~From an Oil Painting by his Son, Ernest W. Longfellow r ï~~TWENTY POEMS FROM HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ILLUSTRA TED FROM PAINTINGS BY HIS SON ERNEST W. LONGFELLOW BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street btR RibieribtJ pres, &Cambribge 1884 ï~~Copyright, 1863, 1866, 1873, 1875, and 188o, By HENRX WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW..,:.Copyright, 1882, BY ERNEl'F ~ LONGFELLOW, ADMINISTRATOR. Copyright, 1883, By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY. All r~ghts reserved. The Riverside Press, Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Co. ï~~CONTENTS. IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY DAYBREAK... THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH THE DAY IS DONE.. SEAWEED... THE EVENING STAR.. CADENABBIA... PAGE 9. II S 12 16.19. 22. 23 AMALFI.. SNOWFLAKES... SONGO RIVER........ CHRYSAOR........... MOONLIGIHT.... THE LIGHTHOUSE.. THE BELLS OF LYNN............ THREE FRIENDS OF MINE THE TIDES... ELEGIAC... THE TIDE RISES, THE TIDE FALLS.. MAD RIVER, IN TIHE WHITE MOUNTAINS....... BECALMED......26 S 32.. 33 S 36.38 S 40 Â~. 44 S 46 5' S 52 S54 S55. 6o ï~~ ï~~LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PORTRAIT....................... " So blue yon winding river flows." (View from Mr. Longfellow's House) "There are no birds in last year's nest".. " It hailed the ships, and cried, " Sail on". " It crossed the churchyard with a sigh " " Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands ".... " He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir "... "Thus on its sounding anvil shaped ". " I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist" " Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away "... " Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges "...... "Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches "...... " Lo! in the painted oriel of the West" "I pace the leafy colonnade Where level branches of the plane". "By Somariva's garden gate I make the marble stairs my seat".. "Varenna with its white cascade ".... Frontispiece 0 0 * T9 o o o o 9.... Io II.... 12 S... 13... 14.... 15............ 18..................... 19....... 20.................. 22................. 23......................... 24............... 25 ï~~vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. " Silent and slow, by tower and town The freighted barges come and go "............ "Sits Amalfi in the heat, Bathing ever her white feet In the tideless summer seas "............... "Toiling up from stair to stair Peasant girls their burdens bear"............... " On its terraced walk aloof Leans a monk with folded hands "............ "Vanished like a fleet of cloud "......... "On his terrace, high in air, Nothing doth the good monk care"............. "Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest fields forsaken "............. "Winding slow through bush and brake "....... "Tangled thickets on each side "......... "Swift or swallow on the wing Seems the only living thing"............... "Just above yon sandy bar"............... "Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed"........... "The very pathway to my door Is an enchanted avenue ".............. "And on its outer point, some miles away, The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry"........... " They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze ".......... " The startled waves leap over it"........ "The fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland "..... " Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn." (Lynn Beach).. " Ye summon up the spectral moon." (View at Nahant)...... " In Attica thy birthplace should have been." (View ofthe Acropolis). "The willows in the meadow." (View at Nahant)..........e... 26..... 26.".... 27 S.... 28 29.... 29..... * 32..... * 32..... * 33 * *... * 34.. *... 35..... 37... 38.... 39 42..... 42..... 42..... 43.... 44.... 45..... 46..... 47. Â~ 48 ï~~LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. " River, that stealest with such silent pace Around the City of the Dead." (View on Charles River)...... " At the gate The blossomed lilacs counterfeit a blaze." (View of Mir. Longfellow's Gate). "I saw the long line of the vacant shore." (View at Nakant)....... " Slowly and stately and still, they sail forth into the ocean"........ " Sailless at anchor ride, looming so large in the mist".......... vii S 49.. 50 51.. 5I S. 52. 53 ' The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore " "Why dost thou wildly rush and roar, Mad River, O Mad River"... " A brooklet nameless and unknown" " Out of the forest dark and dread S "Across the open fields I fled".. "The wind, the forest bent and bowed, The rush of rain descending". " Daily I water with these arms The cattle of a hundred farms ".. " The mills are tired of waiting".. " On either side, behind, before, The ocean stretches like a floor ". " The life of the awakening sea, Its motion and its mystery".................. 54................. 55............. 56........... 57................. 58............... 58.............. 59 S.......... 60 The engravings have been made by.- GEORGE T. ANDREW, W. B. CLOSSON and his assistants, W. J. DANA, E. CLEMENT, J. CLEMENT, JOHN FILMER, N. ORR & Co., F. G. PUTNAM. ï~~ ï~~IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY. No hay pijaros en los nidos de antafio.- S5anisk Proverb. THE sun is bright, - the air is clear, The darting swallows soar and sing, And from the stately elms I hear The bluebird prophesying Spring. So blue yon winding river flows, It seems an outlet from the sky, Where waiting till the west-wind blows, The freighted clouds at anchor lie. All things are new; - the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves; - There are no birds in last year's nest! ï~~I0 IT IS NOT AL WAYS MAY. All things rejoice in youth and love, The fulness of their first delight! And learn from the soft heavens above The melting tenderness of night. Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay; Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, For oh, it is not always May! Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, To some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest! ï~~DA YBREAK. II DAYBREAK. A WIND came up out of the sea, And said," O mists, make room for me." It hailed the ships, and cried, "Sail on, Ye mariners, the night is gone." And hurried landward far away, Crying, "Awake! it is the day." It said unto the forest, " Shout! Hang all your leafy banners out!" It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, And said, "0 bird, awake and sing." And o'er the farms," O chanticleer, Your clarion blow; the day is near." ï~~I2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. It whispered to the fields of corn, " Bow down, and hail the coming morn." It shouted through the belfry-tower, " Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour." It crossed the churchyard with a sigh, And said," Not yet! in quiet lie." THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. UNDER a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. ï~~STHE VILLZAGE BLACKSMITI I His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. ï~~14 THE VILLA GE BLACKSMITIH. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor. He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. ï~~THE VILLA GE BLACKSMITH. r5 It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, - rejoicing, - sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. ï~~THE DAY IS DO ATE. THE DAY IS DONE. THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. ï~~THE DA Y IS D ONE. 17 Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, 2 ï~~18 THE DA Y IS DONE. And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. ï~~SEA WEED. 19 SEAWEED. WHEN descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda's reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing, Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; ï~~20 SEA WEED. From the tumbling surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas; - Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless main; Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again, ï~~SEA WEED. 2I So when storms of wild emotion Strike the ocean Of the poet's soul, erelong From each cave and rocky fastness In its vastness, Floats some fragment of a song: From the far-off isles enchanted, Heaven has planted With the golden fruit of Truth; From the flashing surf, whose vision Gleams Elysian In the tropic clime of Youth; From the strong Will, and the Endeavor That forever Wrestle with the tides of Fate; From the wreck of Hopes far-scattered, Tempest-shattered, Floating waste and desolate; - Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless heart; Till at length in books recorded, They, like hoarded Household words, no more depart. ï~~22 THE E VENING STAR. THE EVENING STAR. Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, Like a fair lady at her casement, shines The evening star, the star of love and rest! And then anon she doth herself divest Of all her radiant garments, and reclines Behind the sombre screen of yonder pines, With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed. O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! My morning and my evening star of love! My best and gentlest lady! even thus, As that fair planet in the sky above, Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night, And from thy darkened window fades the light. ï~~CA DE NABBIA. 2 23 CADENABBIA. LAKE OF COMO. No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks The silence of the summer day, As by the loveliest of all lakes I while the idle hours away. I pace the leafy colonnade Where level branches of the plane Above me weave a roof of shade Impervious to the sun and rain. At times a sudden rush of air Flutters the lazy leaves o'erhead, ï~~24 CADENABBIA. And gleams of sunshine toss and flare Like torches down the path I tread. By Somariva's garden gate I make the marble stairs my seat, And hear the water, as I wait, Lapping the steps beneath my feet. The undulation sinks and swells Along the stony parapets, And far away the floating bells Tinkle upon the fisher's nets. Silent and slow, by tower and town The freighted barges come and go, Their pendent shadows gliding down By town and tower submerged below. ï~~CADENA B BIA. 25 The hills sweep upward from the shore, With villas scattered one by one Upon their wooded spurs, and lower Bellaggio blazing in the sun. And dimly seen, a tangled mass Of walls and woods, of light and shade, Stands beckoning up the Stelvio Pass Varenna with its white cascade. I ask myself, Is this a dream? Will it all vanish into air? Is there a land of such supreme And perfect beauty anywhere? Sweet vision! Linger until Into itself the And all the Do not fade away; my heart shall take summer day, beauty of the lake. ï~~26 A MALFI Linger until upon my brain Is stamped an image of the scene, Then fade into the air again, And be as if thou hadst not been. AMALFI. SWEET the memory is to me Of a land beyond the sea, Where the waves and mountains meet, Where, amid her mulberry-trees Sits Amalfi in the heat, Bathing ever her white feet In the tideless summer seas. ï~~A MA LFI. 27 In the middle of the town, From its fountains in the hills, Tumbling through the narrow gorge, The Canneto rushes down, Turns the great wheels of the mills, Lifts the hammers of the forge. 'T is a stairway, not a street, That ascends the deep ravine, Where the torrent leaps between Rocky walls that almost meet. Toiling up from stair to stair Peasant girls their burdens bear; ï~~28 AMALFZ Sunburnt daughters of the soil, Stately figures tall and straight, What inexorable fate Dooms them to this life of toil? Lord of vineyards and of lands, Far above the convent stands. On its terraced walk aloof Leans a monk with folded hands, Placid, satisfied, serene, Looking down upon the scene Over wall and red-tiled roof; Wondering unto what good end All this toil and traffic tend, And why all men cannot be Free from care and free from pain, ï~~A MA L FI. 29 And the sordid love of gain, And as indolent as he. Where are now the freighted barks From the marts of east and west? Where the knights in iron sarks Journeying to the Holy Land, Glove of steel upon the hand, Cross of crimson on the breast? MIM Where the pomp of camp and court? Where the pilgrims with their prayers? Where the merchants with their wares, And their gallant brigantines Sailing safely into port Chased by corsair Algerines? Vanished like a fleet of cloud, Like a passing trumpet-blast, ï~~30 AMALZFI. Are those splendors of the past, And the commerce and the crowd! Fathoms deep beneath the seas Lie the ancient wharves and quays, Swallowed by the engulfing waves; Silent streets and vacant halls, Ruined roofs and towers and walls; Hidden from all mortal eyes Deep the sunken city lies: Even cities have their graves! This is an enchanted land! Round the headlands far away Sweeps the blue Salernian bay With its sickle of white sand: Further still and furthermost On the dim discovered coast Paestum with its ruins lies, And its roses all in bloom Seem to tinge the fatal skies Of that lonely land of doom On his terrace, high in air, Nothing doth the good monk care For such worldly themes as these. From the garden just below Little puffs of perfume blow, And a sound is in his ears ï~~AMALFI. 3I Of the murmur of the bees In the shining chestnut-trees; Nothing else he heeds or hears. All the landscape seems to swoon In the happy afternoon; Slowly o'er his senses creep The encroaching waves of sleep, And he sinks as sank the town, Unresisting, fathoms down, Into caverns cool and deep! Walled about with drifts of snow, Hearing the fierce north-wind blow, Seeing all the landscape white, ï~~32 SNO W-,FLAKES. And the river cased in ice, Comes this memory of delight, Comes this vision unto me Of a long-lost Paradise In the land beyond the sea. SNOW-FLAKES. OUT of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, ï~~SONGO RIVER. 33 Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels. This is the poem of the air, Slowly in silent syllables recorded; This is the secret of despair, Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, Now whispered and revealed To wood and field. SONGO RIVER. NOWHERE such a devious stream,! Save in fancy or in dream, Winding slow through bush and brake Links together lake and lake. 3 ï~~34 SONGO RIVER. Walled with woods or sandy shelf, Ever doubling on itself Flows the stream, so still and slow That it hardly seems to flow. Never errant knight of old, Lost in woodland or on wold, Such a winding path pursued Through the sylvan solitude. Never school-boy in his quest & After hazel-nut or nest, Through the forest in and out Wandered loitering thus about In the mirror of its tide Tangled thickets on each side Hang inverted, and between Floating cloud or sky serene. '? ï~~SONGO RIVER. 35 Swift or swallow on the wing Seems the only living thing, Or the loon, that laughs and flies Down to those reflected skies. Silent stream! thy Indian name Unfamiliar is to fame; For thou hidest here alone, Well content to be unknown. ï~~36 CHR YSA OR. But thy tranquil waters teach Wisdom deep as human speech, Moving without haste or noise In unbroken equipoise. Though thou turnest no busy mill, And art ever calm and still, Even thy silence seems to say To the traveller on his way: - "Traveller, hurrying from the heat Of the city, stay thy feet! Rest awhile, nor longer waste Life with inconsiderate haste! " Be not like a stream that brawls Loud with shallow waterfalls, But in quiet self-control Link together soul and soul." CHRYSAOR. JusT above yon sandy bar, As the day grows fainter and dimmer, Lonely and lovely, a single star Lights the air with a dusky glimmer. ï~~CHR YSA OR. o7 Into the ocean faint and far Falls the trail of its golden splendor, And the gleam of that single star Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender. Chrysaor, rising out of the sea, Showed thus glorious and thus emulous, Leaving the arms of Callirrhoe, Forever tender, soft, and tremulous. Thus o'er the ocean faint and far Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly; Is it a God, or is it a star That, entranced, I gaze on nightly! ï~~38 3fO ONLIGHT MOONLIGHT. As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin's haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp Mysterious chambers of the air. Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed, As if this phantom, full of pain, Were by the crumbling walls concealed, And at the windows seen again. Until at last, serene and proud In all the splendor of her light, She walks the terraces of cloud, Supreme as Empress of the Night. I look, but recognize no more Objects familiar to my view; The very pathway to my door Is an endhanted avenue. ï~~MOONLIGHT 39 All things are changed. One mass of shade, The elm-trees drop their curtains down; By palace, park, and colonnade I walk as in a foreign town. The very ground beneath my feet Is clothed with a diviner air; White marble paves the silent street And glimmers in the empty square. ï~~40 THE LIGHTHO USE. Illusion! Underneath there lies The common life of every day; Only the spirit glorifies With its own tints the sober gray. In vain we look, in vain uplift Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind; We see but what we have the gift Of seeing; what we bring we find. THE LIGHTHOUSE. THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, And on its outer point, some miles away, The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremor of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright, Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare! ï~~THE LIGHTHO USE, 41 Not one alone; from each projecting cape And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. Like the great giant Christopher it stands Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave, Wading far out among the rocks and sands The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. And the great ships sail outward and return, Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells, ï~~42 THE LIGHTHO USE. And ever joyful, as they see it burn, They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze, And eager faces, as the light unveils, Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. The mariner remembers when a child, On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink; And when, returning from adventures wild, He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink. Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same Year after year, through all the silent night Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame, Shines on that inextinguishable light! It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace; ï~~THE LIGHTHOUSE. 143 It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. The startled waves leap over it; the storm Smites it with all the scourges of the rain, And steadily against its solid form Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din Of wings and winds and solitary cries, Blinded and maddened by the light within, Dashes himself against the glare, and dies! A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove, It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock, But hails the mariner with words of love. ï~~44 THE BELLS OF L YNN "Sail on!"it says, "sail on, ye stately ships! And with your floating bridge the ocean span; Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse, Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!" THE BELLS OF LYNN HEARD AT NAHANT. o CURFEW of the setting sun! 0 requiem of the dying day! O Bells O Bells of Lynn! of Lynn! From the dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted, Your sounds aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn! Borne on the evening wind across the crimson twilight, O'er land and sea they rise and fall, O Bells of Lynn! The fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland, Listens, and leisurely rows ashore, O Bells of Lynn! ï~~THE BELLS OF LYNN 4 45 Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn! The distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn! ï~~46 THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges, And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn! Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild incantations, Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of Lynn! And startled at the sight, like the weird woman of Endor, Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of Lynn! THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. I. WHEN I remember them, those friends of mine, Who are no longer here, the noble three, Who half my life were more than friends to me, And whose discourse was like a generous wine, I most of all remember the divine Something, that shone in them, and made us see The archetypal man, and what might be The amplitude of Nature's first design. In vain I stretch my hands to clasp their hands; I cannot find them. Nothing now is left But a majestic memory. They meanwhile Wander together in Elysian lands, Perchance remembering me, who am bereft Of their dear presence, and, remembering, smile. ï~~THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. 47 II. IN Attica thy birthplace should have been, Or the Ionian Isles, or where the seas Encircle in their arms the Cyclades, So wholly Greek wast thou in thy serene And childlike joy of life, 0 Philhellene! Around thee would have swarmed the Attic bees; Homer had been thy friend, or Socrates, And Plato welcomed thee to his demesne. For thee old legends breathed historic breath; Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea, And in the sunset Jason's fleece of gold! O, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death, Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee, That thou shouldst die before thou hadst grown old! ï~~48 THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. III. I STAND again on the familiar shore, And hear the waves of the distracted sea Piteously calling and lamenting thee, And waiting restless at thy cottage door. The rocks, the sea-weed on the ocean floor, The willows in.the meadow, and the free Wild winds of the Atlantic welcome me; Then why shouldst thou be dead, and come no more? Ah, why shouldst thou be dead, when common men Are busy with their trivial affairs, Having and holding? Why, when thou hadst read Nature's mysterious manuscript, and then Wast ready to reveal the truth it bears, Why art thou silent? Why shouldst thou be dead? ï~~THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. 49 IV. RIVER, that stealest with such silent pace Around the City of the Dead, where lies A friend who bore thy name, and whom these eyes Shall see no more in his accustomed place, Linger and fold him in thy soft embrace And say good night, for now the western skies Are red with sunset, and gray mists arise Like damps that gather on a dead man's face. Good night! good night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn. 4 ï~~5o THREE FRIENDS OF MINE. V. THE doors are all wide open; at the gate The blossomed lilacs counterfeit a blaze, And seem to warm the air; a dreamy haze Hangs o'er the Brighton meadows like a fate, And on their margin, with sea-tides elate, The flooded Charles, as in the happier days, Writes the last letter of his name, and stays His restless steps, as if compelled to wait. I also wait; but they will come no more, Those friends of mine, whose presence satisfied The thirst and hunger of my heart. Ah me! They have forgotten the pathway to my door! Something is gone from nature since they died, And summer is not summer, nor can be. ï~~THE TIDES. 51 THE TIDES. I SAW the long line of the vacant shore, The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand, And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more. Then heard I, more distinctly than before, The ocean breathe and its great breast expand, And hurrying came on the defenceless land The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar. All thought and feeling and desire, I said, Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o'er me They swept again from their deep ocean bed, And in a tumult of delight, and strong As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me. ï~~52 5ELEGIAC. ELEGIAC. DARK is the morning with mist; in the narrow mouth of the harbor Motionless lies the sea, under its curtain of cloud; Dreamily glimmer the sails of ships on the distant horizon, Like to the towers of a town, built on the verge of the sea. Slowly and stately and still, they sail forth into the ocean; With them sail my thoughts over the limitless deep, Farther and farther away, borne on by unsatisfied longings, Unto Hesperian isles, unto Ausonian shores. Now they have vanished away, have disappeared in the ocean; Sunk are the towers of the town into the depths of the sea! ï~~ELEGIAC. 53 All have vanished but those that, moored in the neighboring roadstead, Sailless at anchor ride, looming so large in the mist. Vanished, too, are the thoughts, the dim, unsatisfied longings; Sunk are the turrets of cloud into the ocean of dreams; While in a haven of rest my heart is riding at anchor, Held by the chains of love, held by the anchors of trust! ï~~54 THE TIDE RISES, T1-E TIDE FALZ LS. THE TIDE RISES, THE TIDE FALLS. THE tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea in the darkness calls and calls; The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls. The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls. ï~~MAD RIVER. 55 MAD RIVER, IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. TRAVELLER. WHY dost thou wildly rush and roar, Mad River, O Mad River? Wilt thou not pause and cease to pour Thy hurrying, headlong waters o'er This rocky shelf forever? What secret trouble stirs thy breast? Why all this fret and flurry? Dost thou not know that what is best In this too restless world is rest From over-work and worry? ï~~56 5MAD RIVER. THE RIVER. What wouldst thou in these mountains seek, O stranger from the city? Is it perhaps some foolish freak Of thine, to put the words I speak Into a plaintive ditty? TRAVELLER. Yes; I would learn of thee thy song, With all its flowing numbers, And in a voice as fresh and strong As thine is, sing it all day long, And hear it in my slumbers. ï~~MAD RIVER. 57 THE RIVER. A brooklet nameless and unknown Was I at first, resembling A little child, that all alone Comes venturing down the stairs of stone, Irresolute and trembling. Later, by wayward fancies led, For the wide world I panted; Out of the forest dark and dread Across the open fields I fled, Like one pursued and haunted. I tossed my arms, I sang aloud, My voice exultant blending With thunder from the passing cloud, The wind, the forest bent and bowed, The rush of rain descending. ï~~58 MAD RIVER. I heard the distant ocean call, Imploring and entreating; Drawn onward, o'er this rocky wall I plunged, and the loud waterfall Made answer to the greeting. And now, beset with many ills, A toilsome life I follow; Compelled to carry from the hills These logs to the impatient mills Below there in the hollow. Yet something ever cheers and charms The rudeness of my labors; Daily I water with these arms ï~~MAD RIVER. 59 The cattle of a hundred farms, And have the birds for neighbors. Men call me Mad, and well they may, When, full of rage and trouble, I burst my banks of sand and clay, And sweep their wooden bridge away, Like withered reeds or stubble. Now go and write thy little rhyme, As of thine own creating. Thou seest the day is past its prime; I can no longer waste my time; The mills are tired of waiting. ï~~6o BECALMED. BECALMED. BECALMED upon the sea of Thought, Still unattained the land it sought, My mind, with loosely-hanging sails, Lies waiting the auspicious gales. On either side, behind, before, The ocean stretches like a floor, - A level floor of amethyst, Crowned by a golden dome of mist. ï~~BECALMED. Blow, breath of inspiration, blow! Shake and uplift this golden glow! And fill the canvas of the mind With wafts of thy celestial wind. Blow breath of song! until I feel The straining sail, the lifting keel, The life of the awakening sea, Its motion and its mystery! ï~~I