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And MILTON's self (at that thrice-honoured name
Oh in thy truth secure, thy virtue bold, Beware the poison in the cup of gold, The asp among the flowers. Thy heart beats high, As bright and brighter breaks the distant sky! But every step is on enchanted ground.
Danger thou lov'st, and Danger haunts thee round.
Who spurs his horse against the mountain-side; Then, plunging, slakes his fury in the tide? Draws, and cries ho; and, where the sun-beams fall, At his own shadow thrusts along the wall? Who dances without music; and anon Sings like the lark-then sighs as woe begone, And folds his arms, and, where the willows wave, Glides in the moon-shine by a maiden's grave? Come hither, boy, and clear thy open brow. Yon summer-clouds, now like the Alps, and now A ship, a whale, change not so fast as thou.
He hears me not-Those sighs were from the heart. Too, too well taught, he plays the lover's part. He who at masques, nor feigning nor sincere, With sweet discourse would win a lady's ear, Lie at her feet and on her slipper swear That none were half so faultless, half so fair,
Now through the forest hies, a stricken deer,
Two on his steps attend, in motley clad; One woeful-wan, one merrier yet as mad; Called Hope and Fear. Hope shakes his cap and bells, And flowers spring up among the woodland dells. To Hope he listens, wandering without measure Thro' sun and shade, lost in a trance of pleasure; And, if to Fear but for a weary mile, Hope follows fast and wins him with a smile.
At length he goes-a Pilgrim to the Shrine, And for a relic would a world resign!
A glove, a shoe-tye, or a flower let fall—
What though the least, Love consecrates them all!
That first he saw and sickened in his prime)
"Absence from Thee-as self from self it seems!"
-Oh, ere in sight he came, 'twas his to thrill A heart that loved him though in secret still. "Am I awake? or is it...can it be
"An idle dream? Nightly it visits me! "That strain," she cries, 66 as from the water rose. "Now near and nearer through the shade it flows!"Now sinks departing-sweetest in its close!" No casement gleams; no Juliet, like the day, Comes forth and speaks and bids her lover stay. Still, like aërial music heard from far, Nightly it rises with the evening-star.
"She loves another! Love was in that sigh!"
She flies not, frowns not, though he pleads his cause;
Then come those full confidings of the past;
Covering them round, how sweet her accents are!
Then are they blest indeed; and swift the hours Till her young Sisters wreathe her hair in flowers, Kindling her beauty-while, unseen, the least Twitches her robe, then runs behind the rest, Known by her laugh that will not be suppressed. Then before All they stand-the holy vow And ring of gold, no fond illusions now, Bind her as his. Across the threshold led, And every tear kissed off as soon as shed, His house she enters there to be a light, Shining within, when all without is night; A guardian-angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing; Winning him back, when mingling in the throng, Back from a world we love, alas, too long, To fire-side happiness, to hours of ease, Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
How oft her eyes read his; her gentle mind