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I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
In their noonday dreams.
The sweet birds every one,
As she dances about the sun.
And whiten the green plains under;
in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
It struggles and howls at fits ;
This pilot is guiding me,
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the lakes and the plains,
The Spirit he loves, remains;
While he is dissolving in rains.
And his burning plumes outspread,
When the morning-star shines dead. As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit, one moment may
sit In the light of its golden wings; And when sunset may breathe from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and of love,
From the depth of heaven above,
As still as a brooding dove.
Whom mortals call the moon,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
Which only the angels hear,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
Like a swarm of golden bees,
Till the calm river, lakes, and seas,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
And the moon's with a girdle of pearl ;
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
Over a torrent sea,
The mountains its columns be.
Is the million-coloured bow;
While the moist earth was laughing þelow.
And the nursling of the sky;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain, when, with never a stain,
The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams, Build
ир the blue dome of air,
And out of the caverns of rain,
ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY IN BELZONI'S
And thou hast walked about (how strange a story !)
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,
And time had not begun to overthrow
Thou hast a tongue, come, let us hear its tune;
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon,
To whom we should assign the Sphinx's fame ?
Of either Pyramid that bears his name?
By oath to tell the secrets of thy trade-
say, what secret melody was hidden In Memnon's statue, which at sunset played ?
ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY IN BELZONI'S EXHIBITION.
Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,
Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass; Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat,
Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass ; Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great Temple's dedication.
Might tell us what those sightless orbs have seen,
And the great deluge still had left it green ;
Art sworn to secrecy ? then keep thy vows;
Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house ; Since in the world of spirits thou hast slumbered, What hast thou seen--what strange adventures numbered ? Since first thy form was in this box extended, We have, above ground, seen some strange
mutations; The Roman Empire has begun and ended,
New worlds have risen—we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been humbled, Whilst not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head,
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses,
O’erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis ;
The nature of thy private life unfold:
And tears adown that dusky cheek have roll’d;
Posthumous man, who quit'st thy narrow bed,
And standest undecayed within our presence,
If its undying guest be lost for ever?
In living virtue, that, when both must sever,
THE NIGHT BEFORE WATERLOO.
There was a sound of revelry by night,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell :-
ye not hear it? No; 'twas but the wind,
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before !
Within a window'd niche of that high hall