The Love that speaks in word and kiss,

The Love that speaks in word and kiss,
That dyes the cheek and fires the eye,
Through surface signs of shallow bliss
That, quickly born, may quickly die;
Sweet, sweet are these to man and woman;
Who thinks them poor is less than human.

But I do know a quavering tone,
And I do know lack-lustre eyes,
Behind the which, dumb and alone,
A stronger Love his labour plies:
He cannot sing or dance or toy -
He works and sighs for other's joy.

In gloom he tends the growth of food,
While others joy in sun and flowers:
None knows the passion of his mood
Save they who know what bitter hours
Are his whose heart, alive to beauty,
Yet dies to it and lives for duty.

Thomas Runciman

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Thomas Runciman

Revoke Not.

Thomas Runciman, Simple Poetry

What though my voice cease like a moan o' the wind?

Thomas Runciman, Simple Poetry

Northumbria. - A Dirge.

Thomas Runciman, Simple Poetry

English

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In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown,
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Love, dearest Lady, such as I would speak,
Lives not within the humor of the eye; -
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Love, though it is not chill and cold,
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    Thus doth Love speak.

    How does Love speak?
        In the avoidance of that which we seek -
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