For we are Ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times. II. So sleeping, so aroused from sleep Thro' sunny decads new and strange, Or gay quinquenniads would we reap The flower and quintessence of change. III. Ah, yet would I—and would I might ! That I might kiss those eyes awake! To choose your own you did not care ; You'd have my moral from the song, And I will take my pleasure there: And, am I right or am I wrong, My fancy, ranging thro' and thro', To search a meaning for the song, Perforce will still revert to you; Nor finds a closer truth than this All-graceful head, so richly curl'd, And evermore a costly kiss The prelude to some brighter world. IV. For since the time when Adam first Embraced his Eve in happy hour, And every bird of Eden burst In carol, every bud to flower, What eyes, like thine, have waken'd hopes, Yet sleeps a dreamless sleep to me; That lets thee neither hear nor see: But break it. In the name of wife, Are clasp'd the moral of thy life, And that for which I care to live. EPILOGUE. So, Lady Flora, take my lay, And, if you find a meaning there, O whisper to your glass, and say, 'What wonder, if he thinks me fair?' What wonder I was all unwise, To shape the song for your delight Like long-tail'd birds of Paradise That float thro' Heaven, and cannot light? Or old-world trains, upheld at court By Cupid-boys of blooming hueBut take it earnest wed with sport, And either sacred unto you. MORTE D'ARTHUR. So all day long the noise of battle roll'd King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep, Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights, Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: Such a sleep They sleep-the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, And fling him far into the middle mere: To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere: 'It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus, A little thing may harm a wounded man. Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word.’ |