No sight of any sun;
No sound of song or tabor,

No dance shall greet you there;
No noise of mortal labour,

Breaks on the blind chill air.
Are ours not happy places,

Where Gods with mortals trod?
Saw not our sires the faces

Of many a present God?
THE SEEKERS.

NAY, now no God comes hither,
In shape that men may see;

They fare we know not whither,
We know not what they be.

Yea, though the sunset lingers
Far in your fairy glades,

Though yours the sweetest singers,
Though yours the kindest maids,

Yet here be the true shadows,
Here in the doubtful light;

Amid the dreamy meadows
No shadow haunts the night.

We seek a city splendid,
With light beyond the sun;

Or lands where dreams are ended,
And works and days are done.

A BALLAD OF DEPARTURE. (2)
FAIR white bird, what song art thou singing

In wintry weather of lands o'er sea?
Dear white bird, what way art thou winging,

Where no grass grows, and no green tree?
I looked at the far off fields and grey,

There grew no tree but the cypress tree,
That bears sad fruits with the flowers of May,

And whoso looks on it, woe is he.
And whoso eats of the fruit thereof

Has no more sorrow, and no more love;
And who sets the same in his garden stead,

In a little space he is waste and dead.
THEY HEAR THE SIRENS FOR THE SECOND TIME.

THE weary sails a moment slept,
The oars were silent for a space,

As past Hesperian shores we swept,
That were as a remembered face

Seen after lapse of hopeless years,
In Hades, when the shadows meet,

Dim through the mist of many tears,
And strange, and though a shadow, sweet.

So seemed the half-remembered shore,
That slumbered, mirrored in the blue,

With havens where we touched of yore,
And ports that over well we knew.

Then broke the calm before a breeze
That sought the secret of the west;

And listless all we swept the seas
Towards the Islands of the Blest.

Beside a golden sanded bay
We saw the Sirens, very fair

The flowery hill whereon they lay,
The flowers set upon their hair.

Their old sweet song came down the wind,
Remembered music waxing strong,

Ah now no need of cords to bind,
No need had we of Orphic song.

It once had seemed a little thing,
To lay our lives down at their feet,

That dying we might hear them sing,
And dying see their faces sweet;

But now, we glanced, and passing by,
No care had we to tarry long;

Faint hope, and rest, and memory
Were more than any Siren's song.

CIRCE'S ISLE REVISITED.
AH, Circe, Circe! in the wood we cried;

Ah, Circe, Circe! but no voice replied;
No voice from bowers o'ergrown and ruinous

As fallen rocks upon the mountain side.
There was no sound of singing in the air;

Failed or fled the maidens that were fair,
No more for sorrow or joy were seen of us,

No light of laughing eyes, or floating hair.
The perfume, and the music, and the flame

Had passed away; the memory of shame
Alone abode, and stings of faint desire,

And pulses of vague quiet went and came.
Ah, Circe! in thy sad changed fairy place,

Our dead Youth came and looked on us a space,
With drooping wings, and eyes of faded fire,

And wasted hair about a weary face.
Why had we ever sought the magic isle

That seemed so happy in the days erewhile?
Why did we ever leave it, where we met

A world of happy wonders in one smile?
Back to the westward and the waning light

We turned, we fled; the solitude of night
Was better than the infinite regret,

In fallen places of our dead delight.
THE LIMIT OF LANDS.

BETWEEN the circling ocean sea
And the poplars of Persephone

There lies a strip of barren sand,
Flecked with the sea's last spray, and strown

With waste leaves of the poplars, blown
From gardens of the shadow land.

With altars of old sacrifice
The shore is set, in mournful wise

The mists upon the ocean brood;
Between the water and the air

The clouds are born that float and fare
Between the water and the wood.

Upon the grey sea never sail
Of mortals passed within our hail,

Where the last weak waves faint and flow;
We heard within the poplar pale

The murmur of a doubtful wail
Of voices loved so long ago.

We scarce had care to die or live,
We had no honey cake to give,

No wine of sacrifice to shed;
There lies no new path over sea,

And now we know how faint they be,
The feasts and voices of the Dead.

Ah, flowers and dance! ah, sun and snow!
Glad life, sad life we did forego

To dream of quietness and rest;
Ah, would the fleet sweet roses here

Poured light and perfume through the drear
Pale year, and wan land of the west.

Sad youth, that let the spring go by
Because the spring is swift to fly,

Sad youth, that feared to mourn or love,
Behold how sadder far is this,

To know that rest is nowise bliss,
And darkness is the end thereof.

VERSES ON PICTURES.
COLINETTE.

[FOR A SKETCH BY MR. G. LESLIE, A.R.A.]
FRANCE your country, as we know;

Room enough for guessing yet,
What lips now or long ago,

Kissed and named you - Colinette.
In what fields from sea to sea,

By what stream your home was set,
Loire or Seine was glad of thee,

Marne or Rhone, O Colinette?
Did you stand with 'maidens ten,

Fairer maids were never seen,'
When the young king and his men

Passed among the orchards green?
Nay, old ballads have a note

Mournful, we would fain forget;
No such sad old air should float

Round your young brows, Colinette.
Say, did Ronsard sing to you,

Shepherdess, to lull his pain,
When the court went wandering through

Rose pleasances of Touraine?
Ronsard and his famous Rose

Long are dust the breezes fret;
You, within the garden close,

You are blooming, Colinette.
Have I seen you proud and gay,

With a patched and perfumed beau,
Dancing through the summer day,

Misty summer of Watteau?
Nay, so sweet a maid as you

Never walked a minuet
With the splendid courtly crew;

Nay, forgive me, Colinette.
Not from Greuze's canvasses

Do you cast a glance, a smile;
You are not as one of these,

Yours is beauty without guile.
Round your maiden brows and hair

Maidenhood and Childhood met
Crown and kiss you, sweet and fair,

New art's blossom, Colinette.
A SUNSET OF WATTEAU.

LUI.
THE silk sail fills, the soft winds wake,

Arise and tempt the seas;
Our ocean is the Palace lake,

Our waves the ripples that we make
Among the mirrored trees.

ELLE.
Nay, sweet the shore, and sweet the song,

And dear the languid dream;
The music mingled all day long

With paces of the dancing throng,
And murmur of the stream.

An hour ago, an hour ago,
We rested in the shade;

And now, why should we seek to know
What way the wilful waters flow?

There is no fairer glade.
LUI.

Nay, pleasure flits, and we must sail,
And seek him everywhere;

Perchance in sunset's golden pale
He listens to the nightingale,

Amid the perfumed air.

• sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
• departure [di´pɑ:tʃə] n.离开，出发 (初中英语单词)
• perfume [´pə:fju:m, pə´fju:m] n.香味 vt.使发香 (初中英语单词)
• barren [´bærən] a.贫瘠的；不生育的 (初中英语单词)
• scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
• sketch [sketʃ] n.素描；短剧 v.草拟 (初中英语单词)
• stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
• forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
• maiden [´meidn] n.少女 a.未婚的 (初中英语单词)
• childhood [´tʃaildhud] n.幼年(时代)；早期 (初中英语单词)
• blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
• mortal [´mɔ:tl] a.致命的 n.凡人 (高中英语单词)
• doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
• ballad [´bæləd] n.民歌，民谣 (高中英语单词)
• hopeless [´həupləs] a.无望的，无可救药的 (高中英语单词)
• westward [´westwəd] a.向西的 n.西方；西部 (高中英语单词)
• solitude [´sɔlitju:d] n.孤独；寂寞；荒凉 (高中英语单词)
• infinite [´infinit] a.无限的，无穷的 (高中英语单词)
• cypress [´saipris] n.丝柏(枝) (英语四级单词)
• flowery [´flauəri] a.多花的 (英语四级单词)
• mournful [´mɔ:nful] a.令人沮丧的 (英语四级单词)
• poplar [´pɔplə] n.白杨；杨木 (英语四级单词)
• blooming [´blu:miŋ] a.正开花的；妙龄的 (英语四级单词)
• dreamy [´dri:mi] a.心不在焉的；朦胧的 (英语六级单词)
• wintry [´wintri] a.冬天的；荒凉的 (英语六级单词)
• whereon [weər´ɔn] ad.在什么上面；因此 (英语六级单词)
• languid [´læŋgwid] a.精神不振的 (英语六级单词)