Love (as a wind in a tree Shaking its tower of green) Shakes all the heart of me And leaves no peace between. Love, as the wind the tree Tears with hands unseen. Love (as a storm on the sea Shatters the sleep of the wave) Shatters the heart of me With desires that grope and crave. Love, as the storm the sea, Boasts not me his slave. IV You, flower-named, and as a flower arrayed, Open to all the wandering airs that pass, Opened to me--yet I drew back afraid, Craven to the blood that would have preyed And the sly viper coiling in the grass. V Love, when you smiled and beckoned My cold thought stood aloof and reckoned Some heights above you. But now you have turned and gone Smiling, fugitive as dawn, I know (oh fool!) I love you. VI Love, with her queen's face and child lips Walked at my side; her hair about her head Streamed, with riotous and exuberant spread Like sails and cordage of sea-breasting ships, And as the tides, her mirthful glints and dips Tugged at my anchor'd calmness--then she said, Chilling to gravity, "You are lead." It was as when the bright blade cruelly slips, For in my soul that hid its vain desires Under closed hatch, I knew the stifled fires Devoured in silence, as stealthy serpents writhe Their folds about their prey; and seemed to hear The passing of some irrevocable year, And faint for whistle of a monstrous scythe. VII Pain of widest range-- The intimate grown strange. ARMA VIRUMQUE CANO And so the good Aeneas went away. It was not dawn, and yet the sleepless sea Felt as a mother, the still unborn day. The stars were brighter than they ought to be. A milky foam curled from the vessel's breast Whose long blades lifted to each lifting crest. Happy were the sailors to be aboard once more, And the laughing sea answered to their shouts afar off shore. Dido the Queen Knew he was gone. No need to have seen From the casement withdrawn; No need to be told; Her heart had guessed By the aching unrest And empty breast-- Empty and cold. Oh, plain her Maidens at their spinning, Love has end that had beginning. As the course was traced Aeneas paced, His thoughts uprising like a flock of birds; And one flew west, to the new the unknown nest, And one that was wing'd with flaming words-- Something the Queen had uttered, tender--sweet,-- Fluttered back and died--just at her feet. Ho! chants a Rower, straining at the sweep, Leave the landsman to his pillow, the sailor to the deep.