Then return to your couch, you who stifle a tear, Then awake not, fair sleeper--believe he is here; For the young and the loving no sorrow endures, If to-day be another's,--to-morrow is yours; May, the next time you listen, your fancy be true, "I am coming--Sciàr--and for you and to you! Sciàr--and to you!" [Decoration] [Footnote B: The words here used are the calls of the gondoliers, indicating the direction they are rowing. "Sciàr" is to stop the boat.] _FROM LOVE AND NATURE._ The Sun came through the frosty mist Most like a dead-white moon; Thy soothing tones I seemed to list, As voices in a swoon. Still as an island stood our ship, The waters gave no sound, But when I touched thy quivering lip I felt the world go round. We seemed the only sentient things Upon that silent sea: Our hearts the only living springs Of all that yet could be! [Decoration] JEAN INGELOW. 1830. _THE LONG WHITE SEAM._ As I came round the harbor buoy, The lights began to gleam, No wave the land-locked water stirred, The crags were white as cream; And I marked my love by candle-light Sewing her long white seam. It 's aye sewing ashore, my dear, Watch and steer at sea, It 's reef and furl, and haul the line, Set sail and think of thee. I climbed to reach her cottage door; O sweetly my love sings! Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth, My soul to meet it springs As the shining water leaped of old, When stirred by angel wings. Aye longing to list anew, Awake and in my dream, But never a song she sang like this, Sewing her long white seam. Fair fall the lights, the harbor lights, That brought me in to thee, And peace drop down on that low roof For the sight that I did see, And the voice, my dear, that rang so clear All for the love of me. For O, for O, with brows bent low By the candle's flickering gleam, Her wedding gown it was she wrought, Sewing the long white seam. _LOVE._ FROM "SONGS OF SEVEN." I leaned out of window, I smelt the white clover, Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate; "Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover-- Hush, nightingale, hush! O, sweet nightingale, wait Till I listen and hear If a step draweth near, For my love he is late! "The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree, The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer: To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see? Let the star-clusters grow, Let the sweet waters flow, And cross quickly to me.