IN the middle of my garden-bed There stands a tall rose-tree; I took the stem and shook and shook it, And, oh! I said, you sweet large roses, Red as rose can be, Just drop into my bosom here, IN the warm wax-light one lounged at the spinet, At his side was a bowl of blue china, and in it Were large blush-roses, and cream and maroon. They crowded, and strain'd, and swoon'd to the music, MAJOLICA AND ROCOCO. I. THROUGH God's great ether glows one sun, And deep in my heart, most one, most one, My love leaps out for thee, my love! The sun sinks gold in Tethys' bed; II. WHAT master has so tuned her voice, That when she speaks, Meseems some distant angel-choirs rejoice Is it her heart's a rebeck sweet? Who strokes the strings? Unseen some glib-wing'd angel-paraclete, So sent of God To fill my heart with heavenly hungerings! III. THE clear, fresh fount Hermaphrodite Was coying and kissing along with the sun, Who caught it and kiss'd it to left and to right In little glib drops of twinkling light, Till quick to the ether's violet height The rosy clouds, like snow-flakes light, My lady and I, a long, long day, Were coying and courting the cloves among. She kiss'd my love out, whither away! Away and leagues in my soul away, Where wandering fancies swirl and sway, To shimmer to earth in a shower of song. IV. THERE'S one great bunch of stars in heaven That shines so sturdily, Where good Saint Peter's sinewy hand There's eke a little twinkling gem There's one that flashes flames and fire, That sparkles from the centre point And also there's a little star So white a virgin's it must be ;— Perhaps the lamp my love in heaven Hangs out to light the way for me. M V. A PASTORAL. FLOWER of the medlar, Crimson of the quince, I saw her at the blossom-time, She swept the draughty pleasance, Whiteness of the white rose, Redness of the red, She went to cut the blush-rose-buds And some she laid in her bosom, And as she past, the lily-heads All beck'd and made their bows. Scarlet of the poppy, Yellow of the corn, |