Shires and towns from Airly Beacon,
While my love climbed up to me!
Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;
Oh, the happy hours we lay
Deep in fern on Airly Beacon,
Courting through the summer’s day!
Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;
Oh, the weary haunt for me,
All alone on Airly Beacon,
With his baby on my knee!
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Over the sea, past Crete, on the Syrian shore to the southward,
Skilful with needle and loom, and the arts of the dyer and carver,Skilful, but feeble of heart; for they know not the lords of Olympus,Lovers of men; neither broad-browed Zeus, nor Pallas Athene,Teacher of wisdom to heroes, bestower of might in the battle;Share not the cunning of Hermes, nor list to the songs of Apollo.Fearing…
And should she die, her grave should be
Among the moorlands of her own fair land,Amid a ring of old and moss-grown stonesIn gorse and heather all embosomed.There should be no tall stone, no marble tombAbove her gentle corse;-the ponderous pileWould press too rudely on those fairy limbs.The turf should lightly he, that marked her home.A sacred spot it would be-every birdThat came…
A gay young knight in Burley stood,
His hands he wrung as he were woodWith waiting for his love O!‘Oh, will she come, or will she stay,Or will she waste the weary dayWith fools who wish her far away,And hate her for her love O?’But by there came a mighty boar,His jowl and tushes red with gore,And on his curled snout he…
The world goes up and the world goes down,
And yesterday’s sneer and yesterday’s frownCan never come over again,Sweet wife:No, never come over again.For woman is warm though man be cold,And the night will hallow the day;Till the heart which at even was weary and oldCan rise in the morning gay,Sweet wife;To its work in the morning gay.Andernach, 1851.
I would have loved: there are no mates in heaven;
I would have sung, as doth the nightingaleThe summer’s night beneath the moone pale,But Saintes hymnes alone in heaven prevail.My love, my song, my skill, my high intent,Have I within this seely book y-pent:And all that beauty which from every partI treasured still alway within mine heart,Whether of form or face angelical,Or herb or flower,…
Hence a while, severer Muses;
Hence; for Alma Mater choosesNot to be for ever sober:But, like stately matron gray,Calling child and grandchild round her,Will for them at least be gay;Share for once their holiday;And, knowing she will sleep the sounder,Cheerier-hearted on the morrowRise to grapple care and sorrow,Grandly leads the dance adown, and joins the children’s play.So go, for in…