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SIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE.

As she fled fast through sun and shade,
The happy winds upon her played,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid:
She looked so lovely, as she swayed
The rein with dainty finger-tips,

A man had given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this,
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips.

A FAREWELL.

FLOW down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:

No more by thee my steps shall be
Forever and forever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea
A rivulet then a river:

Nowhere by thee my steps shall be,
Forever and forever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree And here thine aspen shiver; And here by thee will hum the bee Forever and forever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;

But not by thee my steps shall be,
Forever and forever.

THE BEGGAR MAID.

HER arms across her breast she laid;

She was more fair than words can say: Bare-footed came the beggar maid

Before the King Cophetua.

In robe and crown the king stept down, To meet and greet her on her way; "It is no wonder," said the lords,

"She is more beautiful than day."

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen:
One praised her ankles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,

In all that land had never been:

Cophetua sware a royal oath :

"This beggar maid shall be my queen!'

THE VISION OF SIN.

I HAD a vision when the night was late :

A youth came riding toward a palace-gate.

He rode a horse with wings that would have flown,

But that his heavy rider kept him down.

And from the palace came a child of sin,

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And took him by the curls, and led him in,
Where sat a company with heated eyes,
Expecting when a fountain should arise:
A sleepy light upon their brows and lips-
As when the sun, a crescent of eclipse,

Dreams over lake and lawn, and isles and capes -
Suffused them, sitting, lying, languid shapes,

By heaps of gourds, and skins of wine, and piles of grapes.

Then methought I heard a mellow sound,
Gathering up from all the lower ground;
Narrowing in to where they sat assembled,
Low voluptuous music winding trembled,

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Woven in circles: they that heard it sighed,
Panted hand in hand with faces pale,

Swung themselves, and in low tones replied;
Till the fountain spouted, showering wide
Sleet of diamond-drift and pearly hail;
Then the music touched the gates and died;
Rose again from where it seemed to fail,

Stormed in orbs of song, a growing gale;

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Till thronging in and in, to where they waited,

As 't were a hundred-throated nightingale,

The strong tempestuous treble throbbed and palpitated; Ran into its giddiest whirl of sound,

Hair, and eyes, and limbs, and faces,

Twisted hard in fierce embraces,

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Like to Furies, like to Graces,

Dashed together in blinding dew:

Till, killed with some luxurious agony