DALLYING. EAR love, I have not ask'd you yet; The colour on your cheek, which plays See, pluck this flower of wood-sorrel, Its woodland grace becomes you well, Oft you sit 'mid the daisies here, And I lie at your feet; Yet day by day goes by ;-I fear To break a trance so sweet. As some first autumn tint looks strange, And wakes a strange regret, Would your soft "yes" our loving change?— Love, I'll not ask you yet. THOMAS ASHE. CHARMIAN. ON the time when water-lilies shake Their green and gold on river and lake, When the cuckoo calls in the heart o' the heat, When the Dog-star foams and the shade is sweet; Where cool and fresh the River ran, I sat by the side of Charmian, And heard no sound from the world of man. All was so sweet and still that day! Warm and sweet the scented shade With tender tone or syllable. D But to ease our hearts and set thought free We pluckt the flowers of a red Rose-tree, And leaf by leaf, we threw them, Sweet, Into the river at our feet, And in an indolent delight, Watched them glide onward, out of sight. Sweet, had I boldly spoken then, Then, while we linger'd, cold and gray Full of a sweet indifference! I missed the spell-I watch'd it break,- In a less golden hour I spoke, And did not win thee, Charmian ! For wearily we turned away Into the world of everyday, And from thy heart the fancy fled Like the Rose-leaves on the river shed; Than the world and all its treasures are : Still to sit on so close to thee, Nor break the spell by word or look! ROBERT BUCHANAN. NOT LOVE. HAVE not, yet I would have loved thee, sweet; art, The engrafted thought in me throve incomplete, And grew to summer strength in every part Of root and leaf, but hath not borne the flower : Love hath refrained his fulness from my heart. I know no better beauty, none with power To hold mine eyes through change and change as thine, Like southern skies that alter with each hour And yet are changeless, and their calm divine I know no fairer nature, nor where, cast |