SONG. Whither away, whither away, whither away? Fly no more: Whither away wi' the singing sail? whither away wi' the oar? Whither away from the high green field and the happy blossoming shore? Weary mariners, hither away, One and all, one and all, Weary mariners, come and play; We will sing to you all the day; Furl the sail and the foam will fall From the prow! One and all Furl the sail! Drop the oar! Leap ashore, Know danger and trouble and toil no more, Whither away wi' the sail and the oar? Whither away wi' the sail? whither away wi' the oar? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls: Down shower the gambolling water- From wandering over the lea; High over the full-toned sea. From the green seabanks the rose To the happy brimméd sea. Come hither, come hither and be our lords, For merry brides are we : We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words. O listen, listen, your eyes shall glis ten With pleasure and love and revelry; O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten, When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords Runs up the ridgéd sea. Hearken ye, hearken ye, sorrow shall Danger and trouble and toil no more; Whither away? O fly no more— no more: Whither away, whither away, whither away with the sail and the oar? Οἱ ρέοντες. I. All men do walk in sleep, and all II. There is no rest, no calm, no pause, For nothing is, but all is made. ALL thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are For all things are as they seem to all, POEMS PUBLISHED IN THE EDITION OF 1833, AND OMITTED IN LATER EDITIONS. THE North-wind fall'n, in the new-starréd night Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond Heard neither warbling of the nightingale, That ran bloom-bright into the Atlantic blue, Beneath a highland leaning down a weight Ofcliffs, and zoned below with cedar shade, Came voices, like the voices in a dream, Continuous, till he reached the outer sea. SONG. I. Round about the hallowed fruit - tree curled Sing away, sing aloud evermore in the wind, without stop, The golden apple, the golden apple, the Lest his scaled eyelid drop, hallowed fruit, Guard it well, guard it warily, Standing about the charméd root. As the snow-field on the mountain-peaks, As the sand-field at the mountain-foot. If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three (Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery. For the blossom unto threefold music bloweth ; Evermore it is born anew; And the sap to threefold music floweth, From the root For he is older than the world. If the golden apple be taken, The world will be overwise. III. Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day, Lest the old wound of the world be healed, The golden apple stolen away, Wandering waters unto wandering waters call; Let them clash together, foam and fall. morn. IV. II. Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye, Looking under silver hair with a silver eye. Father, twinkle not thy steadfast sight; Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die; Honor comes with mystery; Hoarded wisdom brings delight. Number, tell them over and number How many the mystic fruit-tree holds Lest the red-combed dragon slumber Rolled together in purple folds. Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away, For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day, Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath Of this warm sea-wind ripeneth, Mellowed in a land of rest; The quick lark's closest-carolled strains, Life shoots and glances thro' your veins, And your words are seeming-bitter, Sharp and few, but seeming-bitter From excess of swift delight. III. Come down, come home, my Rosalind, From north to south; Will bind you fast in silken cords, MY Rosalind, my Rosalind, Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind, Is one of those who know no strife Of inward woe or outward fear; To whom the slope and stream of Life, In the ear, from far and near, My falcon-hearted Rosalind, Is one of those who cannot weep Fresh as the early sea-smell blown Through vineyards from an inland bay. |