Eyes with idle tears are wet. Idle habit links us yet. What is love for we forget: Ah, no! no! Look thro' mine eyes with thine. True wife, Round my true heart thine arms entwine; My other dearer life in life, Look thro' my very soul with thine ! Untouch'd with shade of years, any May those kind eyes for ever dwell! They have not shed a many tears, Dear eyes, since first I knew them well. Yet tears they shed: they had their part Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again, And left a want unknown before; Although the loss that brought us pain, With farther lookings on. The kiss, The woven arms, seem but to be Weak symbols of the settled bliss, The comfort, I have found in thee: But that God bless thee, dear-who wrought Two spirits to one equal mind With blessings beyond hope or thought, With blessings which no words can find. Arise, and let us wander forth, To yon old mill across the wolds; For look, the sunset, south and north, And fires your narrow casement glass, On the chalk-hill the bearded grass Is dry and dewless. Let us go. FATIMA. I. O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might ! O sun, that from thy noonday height Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light, II. Last night I wasted hateful hours Below the city's eastern towers : I thirsted for the brooks, the showers: I rolled among the tender flowers: I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth : I look'd athwart the burning drouth Of that long desert to the south. III. Last night, when some one spoke his name, From my swift blood that went and came A thousand little shafts of flame Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. O Love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. IV. Before he mounts the hill, I know In my dry brain my spirit soon, Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, Faints like a dazzled morning moon. V. The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight. VI. My whole soul waiting silently, Droops blinded with his shining eye, I will grow round him in his place, |