The cruel vapours went through all,
  Sweet Love was withered in his cell;
  Pride took Love’s sweets, and by a spell
  Did change them into gall;
  And Memory tho’ fed by Pride
  Did wax so thin on gall,
  Awhile she scarcely lived at all,
  What marvel that she died?

X

=Chorus=

In an unpublished drama written very early.

  The varied earth, the moving heaven,
      The rapid waste of roving sea,
  The fountainpregnant mountains riven
      To shapes of wildest anarchy,
  By secret fire and midnight storms
      That wander round their windy cones,
  The subtle life, the countless forms
      Of living things, the wondrous tones
  Of man and beast are full of strange
  Astonishment and boundless change.

  The day, the diamonded light,
      The echo, feeble child of sound,
  The heavy thunder’s girding might,
      The herald lightning’s starry bound,
  The vocal spring of bursting bloom,
      The naked summer’s glowing birth,
  The troublous autumn’s sallow gloom,
      The hoarhead winter paving earth
  With sheeny white, are full of strange
  Astonishment and boundless change.

  Each sun which from the centre flings
      Grand music and redundant fire,
  The burning belts, the mighty rings,
      The murmurous planets’ rolling choir,
  The globefilled arch that, cleaving air,
      Lost in its effulgence sleeps,
  The lawless comets as they glare,
      And thunder thro’ the sapphire deeps
  In wayward strength, are full of strange
  Astonishment and boundless change.

XI

=Lost Hope=

  You cast to ground the hope which once was mine,
      But did the while your harsh decree deplore,
  Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine,
      My heart, where Hope had been and was no more.

  So on an oaken sprout
      A goodly acorn grew;
  But winds from heaven shook the acorn out,
      And filled the cup with dew.

XII

=The Tears of Heaven=

  Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn,
  In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep,
  Because the earth hath made her state forlorn
  With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years,
  And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap. 
  And all the day heaven gathers back her tears
  Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep,
  And showering down the glory of lightsome day,
  Smiles on the earth’s worn brow to win her if she may.

XIII

=Love and Sorrow=