BLUEBELLS

Where the bluebells and the wind are,

Fairies in a ring I spied,

And I heard a little linnet

Singing near beside.

Where the primrose and the dew are,

Soon were sped the fairies all:

Only now the green turf freshens,

And the linnets call.

LOVELOCKS

I watched the Lady Caroline

Bind up her dark and beauteous hair;

Her face was rosy in the glass,

And 'twixt the coils her hands would pass,

White in the candleshine.

Her bottles on the table lay,

Stoppered yet sweet of violet;

Her image in the mirror stooped

To view those locks as lightly looped

As cherry-boughs in May.

The snowy night lay dim without,

I heard the Waits their sweet song sing;

The window smouldered keen with frost;

Yet still she twisted, sleeked and tossed

Her beauteous hair about.

O DEAR ME!

Here are crocuses, white, gold, grey!

'O dear me!' says Marjorie May;

Flat as a platter the blackberry blows:

'O dear me!' says Madeleine Rose;

The leaves are fallen, the swallows flown:

'O dear me!' says Humphrey John;

Snow lies thick where all night it fell:

'O dear me!' says Emmanuel.

TARTARY

If I were Lord of Tartary,

Myself and me alone,

My bed should be of ivory,

Of beaten gold my throne;

And in my court should peacocks flaunt,

And in my forests tigers haunt,

And in my pools great fishes slant

Their fins athwart the sun.

If I were Lord of Tartary,

Trumpeters every day

To all my meals should summon me,

And in my courtyards bray;

And in the evenings lamps should shine,

Yellow as honey, red as wine,

While harp, and flute, and mandoline,

Made music sweet and gay.

If I were Lord of Tartary,

I'd wear a robe of beads,

White, and gold, and green they'd be—

And small, and thick as seeds;

And ere should wane the morning-star,

I'd don my robe and scimitar,

And zebras seven should draw my car

Through Tartary's dark glades.

Lord of the fruits of Tartary,

Her rivers silver-pale!

Lord of the hills of Tartary,

Glen, thicket, wood, and dale!

Her flashing stars, her scented breeze,

Her trembling lakes, like foamless seas,

Her bird-delighting citron-trees

In every purple vale!