And says it is a last farewell.

A BIRTHDAY GIFT
No gift I bring but worship, and the love

Which all must bear to lovely souls and pure,
Those lights, that, when all else is dark, endure;

Stars in the night, to lift our eyes above;
To lift our eyes and hearts, and make us move

Less doubtful, though our journey be obscure,
Less fearful of its ending, being sure

That they watch over us, where'er we rove.
And though my gift itself have little worth,

Yet worth it gains from her to whom `tis given,
As a weak flower gets colour from the sun.

Or rather, as when angels walk the earth,
All things they look on take the look of heaven -

For of those blessed angels thou art one.
CYCLAMEN

I had a plant which would not thrive,
Although I watered it with care,

I could not save the blossoms fair,
Nor even keep the leaves alive.

I strive的过去式">strove till it was vain to strive.
I gave it light, I gave it air,

I sought from skill and counsel rare
The means to make it yet survive.

A lady sent it me, to prove
She held my friendship in esteem;

I would not have it as she said,
I wanted it to be for love;

And now not even friends we seem,
And now the cyclamen is dead.

LOVE RECALLED IN SLEEP
There was a time when in your face

There dwelt such power, and in your smile
I know not what of magic grace;

They held me captive for a while.
Ah, then I listened for your voice!

Like music every word did fall,
Making the hearts of men rejoice,

And mine rejoiced the most of all.
At sight of you, my soul took flame.

But now, alas! the spell is fled.
Is it that you are not the same,

Or only that my love is dead?
I know not--but last night I dreamed

That you were walking by my side,
And sweet, as once you were, you seemed,

And all my heart was glorified.
Your head against my shoulder lay,

And round your waist my arm was pressed,
And as we walked a well-known way,

Love was between us both confessed.
But when with dawn I woke from sleep,

And slow came back the unlovely truth,
I wept, as an old man might weep

For the lost paradise of youth.
FOOTSTEPS IN THE STREET

Oh, will the footsteps never be done?
The insolent feet

Thronging the street,
Forsaken now of the only one.

The only one out of all the throng,
Whose footfall I knew,

And could tell it so true,
That I leapt to see as she passed along,

As she passed along with her beautiful face,
Which knew full well

Though it did not tell,
That I was there in the window-space.

Now my sense is never so clear.
It cheats my heart,

Making me start
A thousand times, when she is not near.

When she is not near, but so far away,
I could not come

To the place of her home,
Though I travelled and sought for a month and a day.

Do you wonder then if I wish the street
Were grown with grass,

And no foot might pass
Till she treads it again with her sacred feet?

FOR A PRESENT OF ROSES
Crimson and cream and white -

My room is a garden of roses!
Centre and left and right,

Three several splendid posies.
As the sender is, they are sweet,

These lovely gifts of your sending,
With the stifling summer heat

Their delicatefragrance blending.
What more can my heart desire?

Has it lost the power to be grateful?
Is it only a burnt-out fire,

Whose ashes are dull and hateful?
Yet still to itself it doth say,

`I should have loved far better
To have found, coming in to-day,

The merest scrap of a letter.'
IN TIME OF SORROW

Despair is in the suns that shine,
And in the rains that fall,

This sad forsaken soul of mine
Is weary of them all.

They fall and shine on alien streets
From those I love and know.

I cannot hear amid the heats
The North Sea's freshening flow

The people hurry up and down,
Like ghosts that cannot lie;

And wandering through the phantom town
The weariest ghost am I.

A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE--FROM VICTOR HUGO
If a pleasant lawn there grow

By the showers caressed,
Where in all the seasons blow

Flowers gaily dressed,
Where by handfuls one may win

Lilies, woodbine, jessamine,
I will make a path therein

For thy feet to rest.
If there live in honour's sway

An all-loving breast
Whose devotion cannot stray,

Never gloom-oppressed -
If this noble breast still wake

For a worthy motive's sake,
There a pillow I will make

For thy head to rest.
If there be a dream of love,

Dream that God has blest,
Yielding daily treasure-trove

Of delightful zest,
With the scent of roses filled,

With the soul's communion thrilled,
There, oh! there a nest I'll build

For thy heart to rest.
THE FIDDLER

There's a fiddler in the street,
And the children all are dancing:

Two dozen lightsome feet
Springing and prancing.

Pleasure he gives to you,
Dance then, and spare not!

For the poor fiddler's due,
Know not and care not.

While you are prancing,
Let the fiddler play.

When you're tired of dancing
He may go away.

THE FIRST MEETING
Last night for the first time, O Heart's Delight,

I held your hand a moment in my own,
The dearest moment which my soul has known,

Since I beheld and loved you at first sight.
I left you, and I wandered in the night,

Under the rain, beside the ocean's moan.
All was black dark, but in the north alone

There was a glimmer of the Northern Light.
My heart was singing like a happy bird,

Glad of the present, and from forethought free,
Save for one note amid its music heard:

God grant, whatever end of this may be,
That when the tale is told, the final word

May be of peace and benison to thee.
A CRITICISM OF CRITICS

How often have the critics, trained
To look upon the sky

Through telescopes securely chained,
Forgot the naked eye.

Within the compass of their glass
Each smallest star they knew,

And not a meteor could pass
But they were looking through.

When a new planet shed its rays
Beyond their field of vision,

And simple folk ran out to gaze,
They laughed in high derision.

They railed upon the senseless throng
Who cheered the brave new light.

And yet the learned men were wrong,
The simple folk were right.

MY LADY
My Lady of all ladies! Queen by right

Of tender beauty; full of gentle moods;
With eyes that look divine beatitudes,

Large eyes illumined with her spirit's light;
Lips that are lovely both by sound and sight,

Breathing such music as the dove, which broods
Within the dark and silence of the woods,

Croons to the mate that is her heart's delight.
Where is a line, in cloud or wave or hill,

To match the curve which rounds her soft-flushed cheek?
A colour, in the sky of morn or of even,

To match that flush? Ah, let me now be still!
If of her spirit I should strive to speak,

I should come short, as earth comes short of heaven.
PARTNERSHIP IN FAME

Love, when the present is become the past,
And dust has covered all that now is new,

When many a fame has faded out of view,
And many a later fame is fading fast -

• worship [´wə:ʃip] n.&v.崇拜；敬仰 (初中英语单词)
• fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
• counsel [´kaunsəl] n.商议；劝告；律师 (初中英语单词)
• captive [´kæptiv] n.俘虏；捕获物 (初中英语单词)
• well-known [,wel´nəun] a.著名的，众所周知的 (初中英语单词)
• paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
• sacred [´seikrid] a.神圣的；庄严的 (初中英语单词)
• delicate [´delikət] a.精美的；微妙的 (初中英语单词)
• devotion [di´vəuʃən] n.献身；忠诚；热爱 (初中英语单词)
• worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
• delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
• beheld [bi´held] behold的过去式(分词) (初中英语单词)
• whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
• criticism [´kritisizəm] n.批评；评论(文) (初中英语单词)
• compass [´kʌmpəs] n.指南针；圆规 (初中英语单词)
• planet [´plænit] n.行星 (初中英语单词)
• divine [di´vain] a.神圣的 v.预言 (初中英语单词)
• doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
• ending [´endiŋ] n.结尾，结局 (高中英语单词)
• strove [strəuv] strive的过去式 (高中英语单词)
• fragrance [´freigrəns] n.芬芳，芳香 (高中英语单词)
• meteor [´mi:tiə] n.大气现象；流星 (高中英语单词)
• learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
• strive [straiv] vi.争取；努力；奋斗 (高中英语单词)
• blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
• victor [´viktə] n.&a.胜利者(的) (英语四级单词)
• communion [kə´mju:niən] n.共享；交流；圣餐 (英语四级单词)
• glimmer [´glimə] n.&vi.闪光 (英语四级单词)
• senseless [´sensləs] a.无知觉的；愚蠢的 (英语四级单词)
• insolent [´insələnt] a.傲慢的；无礼的 (英语六级单词)
• forsaken [fə´seik] forsake的过去分词 (英语六级单词)
• phantom [´fæntəm] n.幽灵；幻影 a.幻想的 (英语六级单词)
• securely [si´kjuəli] ad.安全地；无疑地 (英语六级单词)