TO DAISIES, NOT 10 SHUT SO SOON Shut not so soon: the dull-ey'd night Has not as yet begun To make a seizure on the light, Or to seal up the sun. No marigolds yet closed are, No shadows great appear, Oh, stay but till my Julia close Her life-begetting eye, And let the whole world then dispose Itself to live or die! Robert Herrick THE PRIMROSE Ask me why I send you here This primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew? The sweets of love are mix'd with tears. Ask me why this flower doth show So yellow-green, and sickly too? And bending (yet it doth not break)? Robert Herrick WELCOME, WELCOME Welcome, welcome, do I sing, Love, that to the voice is near, Love, that looks still on your eyes, Shall not want the summer's sun. Love, that still may see your cheeks, Is a fool if e'er he seeks Other lilies, other roses. Love, to whom your soft lip yields, Never, never shall be missing. Love, that question would anew Let him rightly study you, Welcome, welcome, then I sing, William Browne THE MAID OF NEIDPATH O lovers' eyes are sharp to see, Can lend an hour of cheering. All sunk and dim her eyes so bright, Across her cheek was flying; Yet keenest powers to see and hear He came - he pass'd -an heedless gaze The castle-arch, whose hollow tone Sir Walter Scott AE FOND KISS Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee! I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy- Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee; Robert Burns I FEAR THY KISSES, GENTLE MAIDEN I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden; My spirit is too deeply laden, I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion; Innocent is the heart's devotion With which I worship thine. Percy Bysshe Shelley TELL ME WHERE IS FANCY BRED Tell me where is Fancy bred, It is engender'd in the eyes; With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies: Let us all ring Fancy's knell; William Shakespeare I PRITHEE SEND ME BACK MY HEART I prithee send me back my heart, For if from yours you will not part, Why then should'st thou have mine? Yet, now I think on't, let it lie; Why should two hearts in one breast lie, O Love! where is thy sympathy If thus our breasts thou sever? But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I'm best resolved I then am most in doubt. Then farewell care, and farewell woe; I will no longer pine; For I'll believe I have her heart As much as she hath mine. Sir John Suckling |