Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/46

 To her that is not here, In the power of her that dwelleth Where you know not—no, nor guess not— Whom you see not; unto whom,— Ere the evening star hath sunken, Ere the glow-worm lights its lamp, Ere the wearied workman slumbers,— I return, return, return.

the mountain, in the woodland, In the shaded secret dell, I have seen thee, I have met thee! In the soft ambrosial hours of night, In darkness silent sweet I beheld thee, I was with thee, I was thine, and thou wert mine!

When I gazed in palace-chambers, When I trod the rustic dance, Earthly maids were fair to look on, Earthly maidens' hearts were kind: Fair to look on, fair to love: But the life, the life to me, 'Twas the death, the death to them, In the spying, prying, prating Of a curious cruel world. At a touch, a breath they fade, They languish, droop, and die; Yea, the juices change to sourness, And the tints to clammy brown; And the softness unto foulness,