Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . 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 evermore a costly kiss The prelude to some brighter world. For since the time when Adam firstEmbraced his Eve in happy hour, And every bird of Eden burstIn carol, every bud to flower, 156 The Day-Dream. What eyes, like thine, have wakend hopes, What lips, like thine, so sweetly joind?Wher
Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . 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 evermore a costly kiss The prelude to some brighter world. For since the time when Adam firstEmbraced his Eve in happy hour, And every bird of Eden burstIn carol, every bud to flower, 156 The Day-Dream. What eyes, like thine, have wakend hopes, What lips, like thine, so sweetly joind?Where on the double rosebud droops The fulness of the pensive mind ;Which all too dearly self-involved, Yet sleeps a dreamless sleep to me ;A sleep by kisses undissolved, That lets thee neither hear nor see :But break it. In the name of wife, And in the rights that name may give,Are claspd the moral of thy life, And that for which I care to live. The Day-Dream. 157 EPIIvOGUE. So, Lady Flora, take my lay, And, if you find a meaning there,. WHAT WONDER, IF HE THINKS ME FAIR? O whisper to your glass, and say, What wonder, if he thinks me fair? 158 The Day-Dreani. What wonder I was all unwise, To shape the song for your delight, Like long-taild birds of ParadiseThat float thro Heaven, and cannot light ? Or old-world trains, upheld at courtBy Cupid-boys of blooming hue — But take it — earnest wed with sport,And either sacred unto you. AMPHION. My father left a park to me, But it is wild and barren,A garden too with scarce a tree, And waster than a warren :Yet say the neighbours when they call, It is not bad but good land,And in it is the germ of all That grows within the woodland. O had I lived when song was great In days of old Amphion,And taen my fiddle to the gate, Nor cared for seed or scion !And had I lived when song was great. And legs of trees were limber,And taen my fiddle to the gate. And fiddled in the timber! Tis said he had a tuneful tongue, Such happy intonation,Whereve
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