H F ever, dear, I might at last the barren victory gain, And many a secret tear, To think, since think I must of thee, Not otherwise than thou of me. Haply I might Thy chilling coldness, thy disdain, thy pride, Which draw me half reluctant to thy side, With a like meed requite, And I my too fond self despise, Seeing with disenchanted eyes. But now, alas, So fast a prisoner am I to thy love, No power there is that can my chains remove, So sweet the caged hours pass, That if it parted me from thee, Nor would I dare To ask for recompense of love again, Who love thee for the height of thy disdain. If we should burn with equal fire, Full well I know That what I worship is not wholly thee, On yearnings of the cloistered mind, Scorn me then, sweet, I would not thou shouldst leave thy lofty place; Thy lover should not see thee face to face, But prostrate at thy feet. No recompense, no equal part I seek, Only that thou be strong and I be weak. LEWIS MORRIS. A LOVE-THOUGHT. 3LL down the linden-alley's morning shade Thy form with childly raptures I pursue; No hazel-bowered brook can seek the glade With steps more joyous or with course more true. But when all haste and hope I reach my goal, I rise exalted on thy moving grace, Fall on me, joy is weak and turns to fear. RICHARD, LORD HOUGHTON. NOCTURNE. ITALY. P to her chamber window I lounge in the ilex shadows, She smiles on her white-rose lover, To her scarlet lip she holds him, THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. HAME upon you, Robin, Shame upon you now! Kiss me would you? with my hands Daisies grow again, Kingcups blow again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow. Robin came behind me, Kissed me well, I vow; Cuff him could I? with my hands Milking the cow? Swallows fly again, Cuckoos cry again, And you came and kiss'd me milking the cow. Come, Robin, Robin, Come and kiss me now; Help it can I? with my hands Milking the cow? Ringdoves coo again, All things woo again. Come behind and kiss me milking the cow. ALFRED TENNYSON. |