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Love within the lover's breast
Burns like Hesper in the West,
O'er the ashes of the sun,

Till the day and night are done;
Then, when dawn drives up his car-
Lo! it is the morning star.

Love! thy love pours down on mine,
As the sunlight on the vine,
As the snow rill on the vale,
As the salt breeze on the sail;
As the song unto the bird
On my lips thy name is heard.

As a dewdrop on the rose
In thy heart my passion glows;
As a skylark to the sky,
Up into thy breast I fly;
As a sea-shell of the sea
Ever shall I sing of thee.

George Meredith

HOLY THURSDAY

'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, Came children walking two and two, in red, and blue, and

green;

Gray-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white

as snow,

Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.

O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!

Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own; The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now, like a mighty wind, they raise to heaven the voice of song,

Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among; Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. William Blake

THE WHITE ISLAND; OR, PLACE OF THE BLEST

In this world, the Isle of Dreams,
While we sit by sorrow's streams,
Tears and terrors are our themes,
Reciting;

But when once from hence we fly,
More and more approaching nigh
Unto young eternity,

Uniting

In that whiter Island, where
Things are evermore sincere
Candour here and lustre there
Delighting:-

There no monstrous fancies shall
Out of hell an horror call,
To create, or cause at all,
Affrighting;

There in calm and cooling sleep
We our eyes shall never steep,
But eternal watch shall keep,
Attending

Pleasures, such as shall pursue
Me immortalised, and you
And fresh joys, as never too
Have ending.

Robert Herrick

THE BEGGAR MAID

Her arms across her breast she laid;
She was more fair than words can say:
Bare-footed came the beggar maid
Before the king Cophetua.

In robe and crown the king stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way;
"It is no wonder," said the lords,
"She is more beautiful than day."

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen:
One praised her ankles, one her eyes,

One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,

In all that land had never been:

Cophetua sware a royal oath :

"This beggar maid shall be my queen !

Alfred Tennyson

NATURAL COMPARISONS WITH PERFECT LOVE

The lowest trees have tops; the ant her gall;
The fly her spleen; the little sparks their heat:
The slender hairs cast shadows, though but small;
And bees have stings, although they be not great.
Seas have their surges, so have shallow springs;
And love is love, in beggars as in kings.

Where rivers smoothest run, deep are the fords;
The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move;
The firmest faith is in the fewest words;

The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love.
True hearts have eyes, and ears, no tongues to speak;
They hear, and see, and sigh; and then they break.

Anon

CONFIDED

Another lamb, O Lamb of God, behold,
Within this quiet fold,

Among Thy Father's sheep

I lay to sleep!

A heart that never for a night did rest

Beyond its mother's breast.

Lord, keep it close to Thee,

Lest waking it should bleat and pine for me!

John Banister Tabb

COME, REST IN THIS BOSOM

Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still

here;

Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o'ercast,

And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last.

Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame ?

I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,

I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.

Thou hast called me thy Angel in moments of bliss, And thy Angel I'll be, 'mid the horrors of this, Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue, And shield thee, and save thee,

or perish there too!

Thomas Moore

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