And kiss them again till they kiss'd me
Laughingly, laughingly;

And then we would wander away, away, To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high,

Chasing each other merrily.

III

There would be neither moon nor star; But the wave would make music above us afar

Low thunder and light in the magic night-
Neither moon nor star.

We would call aloud in the dreamy dells,
Call to each other and whoop and cry
All night, merrily, merrily.

They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells,

Laughing and clapping their hands between,

All night, merrily, merrily,

But I would throw to them back in mine
Turkis and agate and almondine;
Then leaping out upon them unseen

I would kiss them often under the sea,
And kiss them again till they kiss'd me

Laughingly, laughingly.

O, what a happy life were mine
Under the hollow-hung ocean green!
Soft are the moss-beds under the sea;
We would live merrily, merrily.

THE MERMAID

I

WHO would be
A mermaid fair,
Singing alone,
Combing her hair
Under the sea,
In a golden curl
With a comb of pearl,
On a throne?

II

I would be a mermaid fair;

I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my

hair;

And still as I comb'd I would sing and say, Who is it loves me? who loves not me? I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall

Low adown, low adown,

ter me,

In the purple twilights under the sea;
But the king of them all would carry me,
Woo me, and win me, and marry me,
In the branching jaspers under the sea.
Then all the dry pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea
Would curl round my silver feet silently,
All looking up for the love of me.
And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
All things that are forked, and horned, and
soft

Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,

All looking down for the love of me.

What hope or fear or joy is thine ?
Who talketh with thee, Adeline?

For sure thou art not all alone.
Do beating hearts of salient springs
Keep measure with thine own?

Hast thou heard the butterflies
What they say betwixt their wings?
Or in stillest evenings

With what voice the violet woos
To his heart the silver dews?
Or when little airs arise,
How the merry bluebell rings
To the mosses underneath?
Hast thou look'd upon the breath
Of the lilies at sunrise?
Wherefore that faint smile of thine,
Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?

IV

Some honey-converse feeds thy mind,
Some spirit of a crimson rose
In love with thee forgets to close
His curtains, wasting odorous sighs
All night long on darkness blind.

What aileth thee? whom waitest thou

With thy soften'd, shadow'd brow, And those dew-lit eyes of thine,

Thou faint smiler, Adeline ?

V

Lovest thou the doleful wind

When thou gazest at the skies?

Doth the low-tongued Orient
Wander from the side of the morn,
Dripping with Sabæan spice

On thy pillow, lowly bent

With melodious airs lovelorn, Breathing Light against thy face, While his locks a-drooping twined Round thy neck in subtle ring Make a carcanet of rays,

And ye talk together still,

In the language wherewith Spring
Letters cowslips on the hill?
Hence that look and smile of thine,
Spiritual Adeline.

MARGARET

First printed in 1833; reprinted with slight changes (see Notes) in 1842.

I

O SWEET pale Margaret,

O rare pale Margaret,
What lit your eyes with tearful power,
Like moonlight on a falling shower?
Who lent you, love, your mortal dower

Of pensive thought and aspect pale,
Your melancholy sweet and frail
As perfume of the cuckoo flower?
From the westward-winding flood,
From the evening-lighted wood,

From all things outward you have

won

A tearful grace, as tho' you stood

Between the rainbow and the sun. The very smile before you speak, That dimples your transparent cheek, Encircles all the heart, and feedeth The senses with a still delight

Of dainty sorrow without sound, Like the tender amber round Which the moon about her spreadeth Moving thro' a fleecy night.

II

You love, remaining peacefully,

To hear the murmur of the strife,