How　it　hangs　upon　the　trees；
  A　mystery　of　mysteries！　…
  1827。
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  A　DREAM
  In　visions　of　the　dark　night
  I　have　dreamed　of　joy　departed
  But　a　waking　dreams　of　life　and　light
  Hath　left　me　broken…hearted。
  Ah！　what　is　not　a　dream　by　day
  To　him　whose　eyes　are　cast
  On　things　around　him　with　a　ray
  Turned　back　upon　the　past？
  That　holy　dream　　that　holy　dream；
  While　all　the　world　were　chiding；
  Hath　cheered　me　as　a　lovely　beam
  A　lonely　spirit　guiding。
  What　though　that　light；　thro'　storm　and　night；
  So　trembled　from　afar…
  What　could　there　be　more　purely　bright
  In　Truths　day…star　？
  1827。
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  ROMANCE
  ROMANCE；　who　loves　to　nod　and　sing；
  With　drowsy　head　and　folded　wing；
  Among　the　green　leaves　as　they　shake
  Far　down　within　some　shadowy　lake；
  To　me　a　painted　paroquet
  Hath　been　…　a　most　familiar　bird　…
  Taught　me　my　alphabet　to　say　…
  To　lisp　my　very　earliest　word
  While　in　the　wild　wood　I　did　lie；
  A　child　…　with　a　most　knowing　eye。
  Of　late；　eternal　Condor　years
  So　shake　the　very　Heaven　on　high
  With　tumult　as　they　thunder　by；
  I　have　no　time　for　idle　cares
  Through　gazing　on　the　unquiet　sky。
  And　when　an　hour　with　calmer　wings
  Its　down　upon　thy　spirit　flings　…
  That　little　time　with　lyre　and　rhyme
  To　while　away　…　forbidden　things！
  My　heart　would　feel　to　be　a　crime
  Unless　it　trembled　with　the　strings。
  1829。
  ~~~　End　of　Text　~~~
  FAIRY…LAND
  DIM　vales　…　and　shadowy　floods　…
  And　cloudy…looking　woods；
  Whose　forms　we　can't　discover
  For　the　tears　that　drip　all　over
  Huge　moons　there　wax　and　wane　…
  Again　…　again　…　again　…
  Every　moment　of　the　night　…
  Forever　changing　places　…
  And　they　put　out　the　star…light
  With　the　breath　from　their　pale　faces。
  About　twelve　by　the　moon…dial
  One；　more　filmy　than　the　rest
  （A　kind　which；　upon　trial；
  They　have　found　to　be　the　best）
  Comes　down　…　still　down　…　　and　down
  With　its　centre　on　the　crown
  Of　a　mountain's　eminence；
  While　its　wide　circumference
  In　easy　drapery　falls
  Over　hamlets；　over　halls；
  Wherever　they　may　be　…
  O'er　the　strange　woods　…　o'er　the　sea　…
  Over　spirits　on　the　wing　…
  Over　every　drowsy　thing　…
  And　buries　them　up　quite
  In　a　labyrinth　of　light　…
  And　then；　how　deep！　…　O；　deep！
  Is　the　passion　of　their　sleep。
  In　the　morning　they　arise；
  And　their　moony　covering
  Is　soaring　in　the　skies；
  With　the　tempests　as　they　toss；
  Like　　　almost　any　thing　…
  Or　a　yellow　Albatross。
  They　use　that　moon　no　more
  For　the　same　end　as　before　…
  Videlicet　a　tent　…
  Which　I　think　extravagant：
  Its　atomies；　however；
  Into　a　shower　dissever；
  Of　which　those　butterflies；
  Of　Earth；　who　seek　the　skies；
  And　so　come　down　again
  （Never…contented　things！）
  Have　brought　a　specimen
  Upon　their　quivering　wings。
  1831。
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  THE　LAKE　　TO
  IN　spring　of　youth　it　was　my　lot
  To　haunt　of　the　wide　earth　a　spot
  The　which　I　could　not　love　the　less
  So　lovely　was　the　loneliness
  Of　a　wild　lake；　with　black　rock　bound；
  And　the　tall　pines　that　tower'd　around。
  But　when　the　Night　had　thrown　her　pall
  Upon　that　spot；　as　upon　all；
  And　the　mystic　wind　went　by
  Murmuring　in　melody
  Then　　ah　then　I　would　awake
  To　the　terror　of　the　lone　lake。
  Yet　that　terror　was　not　fright；
  But　a　tremulous　delight
  A　feeling　not　the　jewelled　mine
  Could　teach　or　bribe　me　to　define
  Nor　Love　　although　the　Love　were　thine。
  Death　was　in　that　poisonous　wave；
  And　in　its　gulf　a　fitting　grave
  For　him　who　thence　could　solace　bring
  To　his　lone　imagining
  Whose　solitary　soul　could　make
  An　Eden　of　that　dim　lake。
  1827。
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  EVENING　STAR
  'TWAS　noontide　of　summer；
  And　midtime　of　night；
  And　stars；　in　their　orbits；
  Shone　pale；　through　the　light
  Of　the　brighter；　cold　moon。
  'Mid　planets　her　slaves；
  Herself　in　the　Heavens；
  Her　beam　on　the　waves。
  I　gazed　awhile
  On　her　cold　smile；
  Too　cold…too　cold　for　me
  There　passed；　as　a　shroud；
  A　fleecy　cloud；
  And　I　turned　away　to　thee；
  Proud　Evening　Star；
  In　thy　glory　afar
  And　dearer　thy　beam　shall　be；
  For　joy　to　my　heart
  Is　the　proud　part
  Thou　bearest　in　Heaven　at　night。；
  And　more　I　admire
  Thy　distant　fire；
  Than　that　colder；　lowly　light。
  1827。
  ~~~~~~　End　of　Text　~~~~~~
  〃THE　HAPPIEST　DAY。〃
  I
  THE　happiest　day…the　happiest　hour
  My　seared　and　blighted　heart　hath　known；
  The　highest　hope　of　pride　and　power；
  I　feel　hath　flown。
  Of　power！　said　I？　Yes！　such　I　ween
  But　they　have　vanished　long；　alas！
  The　visions　of　my　youth　have　been
  But　let　them　pass。
  III
  And　pride；　what　have　I　now　with　thee？
  Another　brow　may　ev'n　inherit
  The　venom　thou　hast　poured　on　me
  Be　still　my　spirit！
  IV
  The　happiest　day…the　happiest　hour
  Mine　eyes　shall　see…have　ever　seen
  The　brightest　glance　of　pride　and　power
  I　feet　have　been：
  V
  But　were　that　hope　of　pride　and　power
  Now　offered　with　the　pain
  Ev'n　_then　I　_felt…that　brightest　hour
  I　would　not　live　again：
  VI
  For　on　its　wing　was　dark　alloy
  And　as　it　fluttered…fell
  An　essence…powerful　to　destroy
  A　soul　that　knew　it　well。
  1827。
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  IMITATION
  A　dark　unfathom'd　tide
  Of　interminable　pride　…
  A　mystery；　and　a　dream；
  Should　my　early　life　seem；
  I　say　that　dream　was　fraught
  With　a　wild；　and　waking　thought
  Of　beings　that　have　been；
  Which　my　spirit　hath　not　seen；
  Had　I　let　them　pass　me　by；
  With　a　dreaming　eye！
  Let　none　of　earth　inherit
  That　vision　on　my　spirit；
  Those　thoughts　I　would　control
  As　a　spell　upon　his　soul：
  For　that　bright　hope　at　last
  And　that　light　time　have　past；
  And　my　worldly　rest　hath　gone
  With　a　sigh　as　it　pass'd　on
  I　care　not　tho'　it　perish
  With　a　thought　I　then　did　cherish。
  1827。
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  _Translation　from　the　Greek_
  HYMN　TO　ARISTOGE1TON　AND　HARMODIUS
  I
  WREATHED　in　myrtle；　my　sword　I'll　conceal
  Like　those　champions　devoted　and　brave；
  When　they　plunged　in　the　tyrant　their　steel；
  And　to　Athens　deliverance　gave。
  II
  Beloved　heroes！　your　deathless　souls　roam
  In　the　joy　breathing　isles　of　the　blest；
  Where　the　mighty　of　old　have　their　home
  Where　Achilles　and　Diomed　rest
  III
  In　fresh　myrtle　my　blade　I'll　entwine；
  Like　Harmodius；　the　gallant　and　good；
  When　he　made　at　the　tutelar　shrine
  A　libation　of　Tyranny's　blood。
  IV
  Ye　deliverers　of　Athens　from　shame！
  Ye　avengers　of　Liberty's　wrongs！
  Endless　ages　shall　cherish　your　fame；
  Embalmed　in　their　echoing　songs！
  1827。
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  DREAMS
  Oh！　that　my　young　life　were　a　lasting　dream！
  My　spirit　not　awak'ning；　till　the　beam
  Of　an　Eternity　should　bring　the　morrow：
  Yes！　tho'　that　long　dream　were　of　hopeless　sorrow；
  'Twere　better　than　the　dull　reality
  Of　waking　life　to　him　whose　heart　shall　be；
  And　hath　been　ever；　on　the　chilly　earth；
  A　chaos　of　deep　passion　from　his　birth　！
  But　should　it　be　…　that　dream　eternally
  Continuing　…　as　dreams　have　been　to　me
  In　my　young　boyhood　…　should　it　thus　be　given；
  'Twere　folly　still　to　hope　for　higher　Heaven！
  For　I　have　revell'd；　when　the　sun　was　bright
  In　the　summer　sky；　in　dreamy　fields　of　light；
  And　left　unheedingly　my　very　heart
  In　climes　of　mine　imagining　…　apart
  From　mine　own　home；　with　beings　that　have　been
  Of　mine　own　thought　…　what　more　could　I　have　seen？
  'Twas　once　&　_only_　once　&　the　wild　hour
  From　my　rememberance　shall　not　pass　…　some　power
  Or　spell　had　bound　me　…　'twas　the　chilly　wind
  Came　o'er　me　in　the　night　&　left　behind
  Its　image　on　my　spirit；　or　the　moon
  Shone　on　my　slumbers　in　her　lofty　noon
  Too　coldly　…　or　the　stars　…　howe'er　it　was
  That　dream　was　as　that　night　wind　…　let　it　pass。
  I　have　been　happy　…　tho'　but　in　a　dream
  I　have　been　happy　…　&　I　love　the　theme　…
  Dreams！　in　their　vivid　colouring　of　life　…
  As　in　that　fleeting；　shadowy；　misty　strife
  Of　semblance　with　reality　which　brings
  To　the　delirious　eye　more　lovely　things
  Of　Paradise　&　Love　…　&　all　our　own！
  Than　young　Hope　in　his　sunniest　hour　hath　known。
  ｛From　an　earlier　MS。　Than　in　the　book　…ED。｝
  ~~~　End　of　Text　~~~
  〃IN　YOUTH　I　HAVE　KNOWN　ONE〃
  _How　often　we　forget　all　time；　when　lone
  Admiring　Nature's　universal　throne；
  Her　woodsher　wildsher　mountains…the　intense
  Reply　of　Hers　to　Our　intelligence！_
  I　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　I
  IN　youth　I　have　known　one　with　whom　the　Earth
  In　secret　communing　held…as　he　with　it；
  In　daylight；　and　in　beauty；　from　his　birth：
  Whose　fervid；　flickering　torch　of　life　was　lit
  From　the　sun　and　stars；　whence　he　had　drawn　forth
  A　passionate　light　such　for　his　spirit　was　fit
  And　yet　that　spirit　knew…not　in　the　hour
  Of　its　own　fervor…what　had　o'er　it　power。
  II
  Perhaps　it　may　be　that　my　mind　is　wrought
  To　a　fever*　by　the　moonbeam　that　hangs　o'er；
  But　I　will　half　believe　that　wild　light　fraught
  With　more　of　sovereignty　than　ancient　lore
  Hath　ever　told…or　is　it　of　a　thought
  The　unembodied　essence；　and　no　more
  That　with　a　quickening　spell　doth　o'er　us　pass
  As　dew　of　the　night…time；　o'er　the　summer　grass？
  III
  Doth　o'er　us　pass