LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 161
ODE TO POESY.
NTO what likeness shall I liken thee,
O moon-wrought maiden of my dewy sleep?
For thou art Queen of Thoughts, and unto me
Sister and Bride ; the worn earth’s echoes leap
Because thy holy name is Poesy.
Whereto art thou most like?
Thou art a Dian, crescent o’er the sea
That beats sonorous on the craggy shore,
Or shakes the frail earth-dyke.
So calm and still and far, that never more
Thy silken song shall quiver through the land ;
Only by coral isle, by lonely strand
Where no man dwells, thy voice re-wakens wild and
grand.
Thou artan Aphrodite. From the foam
Of golden grape and red thou risest up
Immaculate ; thou hast an ebon comb
Of shade and silence, and a jasper cup
Wherein are mingled all desires. Thine home
Is in the forest shade.
M