Trembling hours,—she will arise
With new love within her eyes.

IV.

January gray is here,

Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,

March with grief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps-but, O, ye hours,
Follow with May's fairest flowers.

January 1, 1821.

20

TIME.

UNFATHOMABLE Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe
Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
Claspest the limits of mortality!

And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore;
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea?

5

IO

1821.

TO NIGHT.

I.

SWIFTLY Walk o'er the western wave,

Spirit of Night!

Out of the misty eastern cave,

Where all the long and lone daylight,

Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear,-
Swift be thy flight!

II.

Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,

Star in-wrought!

Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day;

Kiss her until she be wearied out,

Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,

Touching all with thine opiate wand

Come, long sought!

III.

When I arose and saw the dawn,

I sighed for thee;

When light rode high, and the dew was gone,

And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,

And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.

IV.

Thy brother Death came, and cried,

Wouldst thou me?

Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,

Murmured like a noon-tide bee,

Shall I nestle near thy side?

Wouldst thou me?— And I replied,

No, not thee!

V.

Death will come when thou art dead,

Soon, too soon

5

ΙΟ

15

20

25

30

My faint spirit was sitting in the light

Of thy looks, my love;

It panted for thee like the hind at noon

For the brooks, my love.

Thy barb whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's flight

Bore thee far from me;

My heart, for my weak feet were weary soon,

Did companion thee.

5

II.

Ah! fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed,

Or the death they bear,

The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove

With the wings of care;

In the battle, in the darkness, in the need,

Shall mine cling to thee,

Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love,

It may bring to thee.

ΙΟ

15

1821.

ジ

TO EMILIA VIVIANI.

MADONNA, wherefore hast thou sent to me
Sweet basil and mignonette,

Embleming love and health, which never yet
In the same wreath might be?

Alas, and they are wet!

Is it with thy kisses or thy tears?

For never rain or dew

Such fragrance drew

From plant or flower—the very doubt endears
My sadness ever new,

The sighs I breathe, the tears I shed for thee.

Send the stars light, but send not love to me,
In whom love ever made

Health like a heap of embers soon to fade.
March, 1821.

EPIPSY CHIDION.

VERSES ADDRESSED TO THE NOBLE AND
UNFORTUNATE LADY,

EMILIA V

NOW IMPRISONED IN THE CONVENT OF

L'anima amante si slancia fuori del creato, e si crea nel infinito un Mondo tutto per essa, diverso assai da questo oscuro e pauroso baratro.

1821.

HER OWN WORDS.