The Germ: Thoughts towards Nature in Poetry, Literature and Art. Various

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      To see her slim perfection sweep,

      Trembling impatiently,

      With eager gaze at me!

      Her feet spared little things that creep:—

      “We've no more right,” she'd say,

      “In this the earth than they.”

      Some remember it but to weep.

      Her hand's slight weight was such,

      Care lightened with its touch;

      My lady sleeps her heavy, heavy sleep.

      My day-dreams hovered round her brow;

      Now o'er its perfect forms

      Go softly real worms.

      Stern death, it was a cruel blow,

      To cut that sweet girl's life

      Sharply, as with a knife.

      Cursed life that lets me live and grow,

      Just as a poisonous root,

      From which rank blossoms shoot;

      My lady's laid so very, very low.

      Dread power, grief cries aloud, “unjust,”—

      To let her young life play

      Its easy, natural way;

      Then, with an unexpected thrust,

      Strike out the life you lent,

      Just when her feelings blent

      With those around whom she saw trust

      Her willing power to bless,

      For their whole happiness;

      My lady moulders into common dust.

      Small birds twitter and peck the weeds

      That wave above her head,

      Shading her lowly bed:

      Their brisk wings burst light globes of seeds,

      Scattering the downy pride

      Of dandelions, wide:

      Speargrass stoops with watery beads:

      The weight from its fine tips

      Occasionally drips:

      The bee drops in the mallow-bloom, and feeds.

      About her window, at the dawn,

      From the vine's crooked boughs

      Birds chirupped an arouse:

      Flies, buzzing, strengthened with the morn;—

      She'll not hear them again

      At random strike the pane:

      No more upon the close-cut lawn,

      Her garment's sun-white hem

      Bend the prim daisy's stem,

      In walking forth to view what flowers are born.

      No more she'll watch the dark-green rings

      Stained quaintly on the lea,

      To image fairy glee;

      While thro' dry grass a faint breeze sings,

      And swarms of insects revel

      Along the sultry level:—

      No more will watch their brilliant wings,

      Now lightly dip, now soar,

      Then sink, and rise once more.

      My lady's death makes dear these trivial things.

      Within a huge tree's steady shade,

      When resting from our walk,

      How pleasant was her talk!

      Elegant deer leaped o'er the glade,

      Or stood with wide bright eyes,

      Staring a short surprise:

      Outside the shadow cows were laid,

      Chewing with drowsy eye

      Their cuds complacently:

      Dim for sunshine drew near a milking-maid.

      Rooks cawed and labored thro' the heat;

      Each wing-flap seemed to make

      Their weary bodies ache:

      The swallows, tho' so very fleet,

      Made breathless pauses there

      At something in the air:—

      All disappeared: our pulses beat

      Distincter throbs: then each

      Turned and kissed, without speech,—

      She trembling, from her mouth down to her feet.

      My head sank on her bosom's heave,

      So close to the soft skin

      I heard the life within.

      My forehead felt her coolly breathe,

      As with her breath it rose:

      To perfect my repose

      Her two arms clasped my neck. The eve

      Spread silently around,

      A hush along the ground,

      And all sound with the sunlight seemed to leave.

      By my still gaze she must have known

      The mighty bliss that filled

      My whole soul, for she thrilled,

      Drooping her face, flushed, on my own;

      I felt that it was such

      By its light warmth of touch.

      My lady was with me alone:

      That vague sensation brought

      More real joy than thought.

      I am without her now, truly alone.

      We had no heed of time: the cause

      Was that our minds were quite

      Absorbed in our delight,

      Silently blessed. Such stillness awes,

      And stops with doubt, the breath,

      Like the mute doom of death.

      I felt Time's instantaneous pause;

      An instant, on my eye

      Flashed all Eternity:—

      I started, as if clutched by wild beasts' claws,

      Awakened from some dizzy swoon:

      I felt strange vacant fears,

      With singings in my ears,

      And wondered that the pallid moon

      Swung round the dome of night

      With such tremendous might.

      A sweetness, like the air of June,

      Next paled me with suspense,

      A weight of clinging sense—

      Some hidden evil would burst on me soon.

      My lady's love has passed away,

      To know that it is so

      To me is living woe.

      That body lies in cold decay,

      Which held the vital soul

      When she was my life's soul.

      Bitter mockery it was to say—

      “Our souls are as the same:”

      My words now sting like shame;

      Her spirit went, and mine СКАЧАТЬ