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"O thou inconstant!" said he, "if stern law

Bind thee, or will, stronger than sternest law,

O, let me know henceforward when to hope The fruit of love that grows for me but here."

He spake; and pluck'd it from its pliant

stem.

"Impatient Rhaicos! Why thus intercept The answer I would give? There is a bee Whom I have fed, a bee who knows my thoughts

And executes my wishes: I will send That messenger. If ever thou art false, Drawn by another, own it not, but drive My bee away; then shall I know my fate. And-for thou must be wretched-weep at thine.

But often as my heart persuades to lay Its cares on thine and throb itself to rest, Expect her with thee, whether it be morn Or eve, at any time when woods are safe."

Day after day the Hours beheld them

blest,

And season after season: years had past, 245 Blest were they still. He who asserts

that Love

Ever is sated of sweet things, the same Sweet things he fretted for in earlier days, Never, by Zeus! loved he a Hamadryad.

1 A kind of sweet shrub.

2 A poisonous evergreen shrub with fragrant flowers.

The night had now grown longer, and

perhaps

250 The Hamadryads find them lone and dull

The solitary place, but moan'd and died. Hence milk and honey wonder not, O guest,

Among their woods; one did, alas! She 285 To find set duly on the hollow stone.

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ON MUSIC 1853

Many love music but for music's sake,
Many because her touches can awake
Thoughts that repose within the breast
half-dead,

And rise to follow where she loves to lead. 5 What various feelings come from days gone by!

What tears from far-off sources dim the eye!

Few, when light fingers with sweet voices play

And melodies swell, pause, and melt away, Mind how at every touch, at every tone, 10 A spark of life hath glisten'd and hath gone.

DEATH STANDS ABOVE ME
1853

Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
Is, there is not a word of fear.

ON HIS SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY 1853

I strove with none; for none was worth my strife,

Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life, It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

I ENTREAT YOU, ALFRED TENNYSON
1853

I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson,
Come and share my haunch of venison.
I have too a bin of claret,

Good, but better when you share it.

5 Tho' 'tis only a small bin, There's a stock of it within. And as sure as I'm a rhymer, Half a butt of Rudesheimer. Come; among the sons of men is one 10 Welcomer than Alfred Tennyson?

TO E. ARUNDELL

1853

Nature! thou mayest fume and fret, There's but one white violet; Scatter o'er the vernal ground Faint resemblances around,

5 Nature! I will tell thee yet There's but one white violet.

AGE 1853

Death, tho' I see him not, is near And grudges me my eightieth year.

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And cast them into shape some other day.
Southey, my friend of forty years, is gone,
And, shattered by the fall, I stand alone.

THE THREE ROSES1
1858

When the buds began to burst,
Long ago, with Rose the First,
I was walking; joyous then
Far above all other men,

5 Till before us up there stood
Briton ferry's oaken wood,
Whispering, "Happy as thou art,
Happiness and thou must part."
Many summers have gone by

10 Since a Second Rose and I

(Rose from that same stem) have told
This and other tales of old.

1 Rose Aylmer (see Rose Aulmer, p. 963), the
daughter of her half-sister, and her grand-
niece.

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LATELY OUR SONGSTERS LOITER'D
IN GREEN LANES
1863

Lately our songsters loiter'd in green
lanes,

Content to catch the ballads of the plains; I fancied I had strength enough to climb A loftier station at no distant time, 5 And might securely from intrusion doze, Upon the flowers thro' which Ilissus flows. In those pale olive grounds all voices cease, And from afar dust fills the paths of Greece.

My slumber broken, and my doublet torn, 10 I find the laurel2 also bears a thorn.

From HEROIC IDYLS
1863

THESEUS AND HIPPOLYTA

Hippolyta. Eternal hatred I have sworn against

The persecutor of my sisterhood;

In vain, proud son of Egeus, hast thou snapped

Their arrows and derided them; in vain 5 Leadest thou me a captive; I can die, And die I will.

Theseus. Nay; many are the years Of youth and beauty for Hippolyta. Hippolyta. I scorn my youth, I hate my beauty. Go!

Monster! of all the monsters in these wilds 10 Most frightful and most odious to my sight.

15

Theseus. I boast not that I saved thee from the bow

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20

truth, however false

In other things.

Theseus. What other? Thou dost

pause,

And thine eyes wander over the smooth

turf

As if some gem (but gem thou wearest not)

Had fallen from the remnant of thy hair. Hippolyta! speak plainly, answer me, 25. What have I done to raise thy fear or hate? Hippolyta. Fear I despise, perfidy I abhor.

30

Unworthy man! did Heracles delude
The maids who trusted him?

Theseus.
Did ever It
Whether he did or not, they never told me:
I would have chided him.
Hippolyta.

Thou chide him! thou! The Spartan mothers well remember thee. Theseus. Scorn adds no beauty to the beautiful.

Heracles was beloved by Omphale, He never parted from her, but obey'd 35 Her slightest wish, as Theseus will Hippolyta's.

Hippolyta. Then leave me, leave me instantly; I know

The way to my own country.

Theseus.

This command, And only this, my heart must disobey. My country shall be thine, and there thy state

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45 And taught me early to divide the waves With arms each day more strong, and soon

50

to chase

And overtake the father swan, nor heed
His hoarser voice or his uplifted wing.
Where are my sisters? are there any left!
Theseus.
I hope it.
Hippolyta. And I fear it: theirs may
be

A fate like mine, which, O ye Gods, for

bid!

Theseus. I pity thee, and would assuage thy grief.

Hippolyta. Pity me not: thy anger I could bear.

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