Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fulness of heart. 'Stay-stay with us!-rest!-thou art weary and worn!'- 453 454 TO THE EVENING STAR STAR that bringest home the bee, That send'st it from above. Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Star of love's soft interviews, ODE TO WINTER Germany, December, 1800 WHEN first the fiery-mantled Sun First, in green apparel dancing, Her bright-hair'd sire, who bade her keep Or India's citron-cover'd isles. The Queen of vintage bow'd before his throne; But howling Winter fled afar Whirls to death the roaring whale, Howls his war-song to the galeSave when adown the ravaged globe He travels on his native storm, Deflowering Nature's grassy robe And trampling on her faded form; Till light's returning Lord assume The shaft that drives him to his northern field, Of power to pierce his raven plume And crystal-cover'd shield. O, sire of storms! whose savage ear Say, hath mortal invocation Spells to touch thy stony heart: Then, sullen Winter! hear my prayer, And gently rule the ruin'd year; Nor chill the wanderer's bosom bare Thy horror-breathing agues cease to lend, Of Innocence descend. But chiefly spare, O king of clouds! When wrecks and beacons strew the steep, And spectres walk along the deep. Pour on yonder tented shores, Where the Rhine's broad billow freezes O, winds of Winter! list ye there To many a deep and dying groan? Or start, ye demons of the midnight air, At shrieks and thunders louder than your own? May spare the victim fallen low; 455 LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry!' 'Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, 'O I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, 6 And fast before her father's men 'His horsemen hard behind us ride- Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, 'And by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So though the waves are raging white I'll row you o'er the ferry.' By this the storm grew loud apace, But still as wilder blew the wind, 'O haste thee, haste!' the lady cries, 'Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, When, O! too strong for human hand And still they row'd amidst the roar Of waters fast prevailing: Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,His wrath was changed to wailing. 456 For, sore dismay'd, through storm and shade One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, And one was round her lover. Come back! come back!' he cried in grief, And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-O, my daughter!' 'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing: The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. THE RIVER OF LIFE THE more we live, more brief appear The gladsome current of our youth, Steals lingering like a river smooth But as the care-worn cheeks grow wan, When joys have lost their bloom and breath And life itself is vapid, Why, as we reach the Falls of Death, It may be strange-yet who would change |