Melancholia

The sickness of desire, that in dark days Looks on the imagination of despair, Forgetteth man, and stinteth God his praise; Nor but in sleep findeth a cure for care. Incertainty that once gave scope to dream Of laughing enterprise and glory untold, Is now a blackness that no stars redeem, A wall of terror in a night of cold.

Fool! thou that hast impossibly desired And now impatiently despairest, see How nought is changed: Joy's wisdom is attired Splendid for others' eyes if not for thee: Not love or beauty or youth from earth is fled: If they delite thee not, 'tis thou art dead.

1904.

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TO THE PRESIDENT OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD

Since now from woodland mist and flooded clay I am fled beside the steep Devonian shore, Nor stand for welcome at your gothic door, 'Neath the fair tower of Magdalen and May, Such tribute, Warren, as fond poets pay For generous esteem, I write, not more Enhearten'd than my need is, reckoning o'er My life-long wanderings on the heavenly way:

But well-befriended we become good friends, Well-honour'd honourable; and all attain Somewhat by fathering what fortune sends. I bid your presidency a long reign, True friend; and may your praise to greater ends Aid better men than I, nor me in vain.

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