“World-mothering air, air wild,
Wound with thee, in thee isled,
Fold home, fast fold thy child.”

“Hear it, O Thyrsis, still our tree is there!—
Ah, vain! These English fields, this upland dim,
These brambles pale with mist engarlanded,
That lone, sky-pointing tree, are not for him;
To a boon southern country he is fled,
And now in happier air,
Wandering with the great Mother’s train divine
(And purer or more subtle soul than thee,
I trow, the mighty Mother doth not see)
Within a folding of the Apennine.”

“A weight is on the air, for ev'ry breeze
Has, bird-like, folded up its wings for sleep.”

“Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
Confusion on thy banners wait,
Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing
They mock the air with idle state.”

“Wild air, world-mothering air,
Nestling me everywhere,
That each eyelash or hair
Girdles; goes home betwixt
The fleeciest, frailest-fixed
Snowflake; that’s fairly mixed
With, riddles, and is rife
In every least thing’s life.”

“Thou has left behind
Powers that will work for thee,—air, earth, and skies!
There 's not a breathing of the common wind
That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;
Thy friends are exultations, agonies,
And love, and man's unconquerable mind.”

“Go now, go, but forget not the land that first folded you to its peaceful bosom; and from Colchis' conquered shores bring back hither thy sails, I pray thee, by this Jason whom thou leavest in my womb.”
I, memor i terrae, quae vos amplexa quieto prima sinu, refer et domitis a Colchidos oris vela per hunc utero quem linquis Iasona nostro.

“Awake
Hindus:
Mother! The flowers of our worship have crowned thee! Parsees:
Mother! The flame of our hope shall surround you Mussulmans:
Mother! The sword of our love shall defend thee Christians:
Mother! The song of thy faith shall attend thee All creeds:
Shall not our dauntless devotion avail thee?
Harken! O Queen O! goddess, we hail thee!”

“Let me but feel thy look's embrace,
Transparent, pure, and warm,
And I'll not ask to touch thy face,
Or fold thee in mine arm.
For in thine eyes a girl doth rise,
Arrayed in candid bliss,
And draws me to her with a charm
More close than any kiss.”

“Death came like a friend to restore thee
To those who had died before thee:
Father, mother,
Sister, brother—
There were none of these to mourn o’er thee.
But now that Death has found thee,
Thy kindred and friends are round thee;
In their rest they are laid
In the dark yew shade,
And cold sleep like their own has bound thee.”