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Loved And Lost.
I.Sweetly to sleep beneath the fresh green turf They laid the loved and lost away;A chair is vacant by the household hearth, And shadow-vested Sorrow's there to-day.II.The tender hands that guided us in youth Are folded now upon the gentle breast,And those dear eyes whose depths were love and truth Are closed to open in eternal rest.III.Through simple faith and duty well performed, A crown of light forever shall be hers;And though with bitter grief and anguish mourned, A consolation gleams through blinding tears!
George W. Doneghy
At Sunset
To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes;Its chalice overflowsWith pools of purple colouring the skies,Aflood with gold and rose;And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,As sinks the sun within that world of wine.I seem to hear a bar of music floatAnd swoon into the west;My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,But something in my breastBlends with that strain, till both accord in one,As cloud and colour blend at set of sun.And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,As ashes follow flame.But O! I heard a voice from those rich skiesCall tenderly my name;It was as if some priestly fingers stoleIn benedictions o'er my lonely soul.I know not why, but all my being longedAnd leapt at that sweet ...
Emily Pauline Johnson
The Wanton Chloe--A Pastoral
Young Chloe looks sweet as the rose, And her love might be reckoned no less, But her bosom so freely bestows That all may a portion possess. Her smiles would be cheering to see, But so freely they're lavished abroad That each silly swain, like to me, Can boast what the wanton bestowed. Her looks and her kisses so free Are for all, like the rain and the sky; As the blossom love is to the bee, Each swain is as welcome as I. And though I my folly can see, Yet still must I love and adore, Though I know the love whispered to me Has been told to so many before. 'T is sad that a bosom so fair, And soft lips so seemingly sweet, Should study false ways, to ensnare, ...
John Clare
Lovely Chance
O lovely chance, what can I doTo give my gratefulness to you?You rise between myself and meWith a wise persistency;I would have broken body and soul,But by your grace, still I am whole.Many a thing you did to save me,Many a holy gift you gave me,Music and friends and happy loveMore than my dearest dreaming of;And now in this wide twilight hourWith earth and heaven a dark, blue flower,In a humble mood I blessYour wisdom and your waywardness.You brought me even here, where ILive on a hill against the skyAnd look on mountains and the seaAnd a thin white moon in the pepper tree.
Sara Teasdale
A Rose Plant In Jericho.
At morn I plucked a rose and gave it Thee,A rose of joy and happy love and peace,A rose with scarce a thorn:But in the chillness of a second mornMy rose bush drooped, and all its gay increaseWas but one thorn that wounded me.I plucked the thorn and offered it to Thee;And for my thorn Thou gavest love and peace,Not joy this mortal morn:If Thou hast given much treasure for a thorn,Wilt thou not give me for my rose increaseOf gladness, and all sweets to me?My thorny rose, my love and pain, to TheeI offer; and I set my heart in peace,And rest upon my thorn:For verily I think to-morrow mornShall bring me Paradise, my gift's increase,Yea, give Thy very Self to me.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
The Parting Word
I must leave thee, lady sweetMonths shall waste before we meet;Winds are fair and sails are spread,Anchors leave their ocean bed;Ere this shining day grow dark,Skies shall gird my shoreless bark.Through thy tears, O lady mine,Read thy lover's parting line.When the first sad sun shall set,Thou shalt tear thy locks of jet;When the morning star shall rise,Thou shalt wake with weeping eyes;When the second sun goes down,Thou more tranquil shalt be grown,Taught too well that wild despairDims thine eyes and spoils thy hair.All the first unquiet weekThou shalt wear a smileless cheek;In the first month's second halfThou shalt once attempt to laugh;Then in Pickwick thou shalt dip,Slightly puckering round the lip,...
Oliver Wendell Holmes
Night Song At Amalfi
I asked the heaven of starsWhat I should give my love,It answered me with silence,Silence above.I asked the darkened seaDown where the fishers go,It answered me with silence,Silence below.Oh, I could give him weeping,Or I could give him song,But how can I give silence,My whole life long?
The Welcome
Come in the evening, or come in the morning;Come when you re lookd for, or come without warning:Kisses and welcome you ll find here before you,And the oftener you come here the more I ll adore you!Light is my heart since the day we were plighted;Red is my cheek that they told me was blighted;The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,And the linnets are singing, True lovers dont sever!I ll pull you sweet flowers, to wear if you choose them,Or, after youve kissd them, they ll lie on my bosom;I ll fetch from the mountain its breeze to inspire you;I ll fetch from my fancy a tale that wont tire you.Oh! your steps like the rain to the summer-vexd farmer,Or sabre and shield to a knight without armor;I ll sing you sweet songs till t...
Thomas Osborne Davis
Rococo
Take hands and part with laughter;Touch lips and part with tears;Once more and no more after,Whatever comes with years.We twain shall not remeasureThe ways that left us twain;Nor crush the lees of pleasureFrom sanguine grapes of pain.We twain once well in sunder,What will the mad gods doFor hate with me, I wonder,Or what for love with you?Forget them till November,And dream theres April yet;Forget that I remember,And dream that I forget.Time found our tired love sleeping,And kissed away his breath;But what should we do weeping,Though light love sleep to death?We have drained his lips at leisure,Till theres not left to drainA single sob of pleasure,A single pulse of pain.Dream t...
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Summer-Evening, A
Come, my dear Love, and let us climb yon hill,The prospect, from its height, will well rewardThe toil of climbing; thence we shall commandThe various beauties of the landscape round.Now we have reached the top. O! what a sceneOpens upon the sight, and swallows upThe admiring soul! She feels as if from earthUplifted into heaven. Scarce can she yetCollect herself, and exercise her powers.While o'er heaven's lofty, wide-extended arch,And round the vast horizon, the bold eyeShoots forth her view, with what sublime delightThe bosom swells! See, where the God of day,Who through the cloudless ether long has ridOn his bright, fiery car, amidst a blazeOf dazzling glory, and in wrath shot roundHis burning arrows, with tyrannic powerOppressing Natur...
Thomas Oldham
Lines To Miss L ---- D ---- .
When Heav'n, sweet Laura! form'd thy mind,With genius and with taste refin'd,As if the union were too bright,It spread the veil of diffidence,That ev'ry ray, at first intense,Might shine as soft as lunar light.To frame a form then Nature strove,And call'd on Beauty and on Love,To lodge the mind they priz'd so well:Completed was the fair design;Thus blended dew-drops mildly shineWithin the lily's spotless bell!
John Carr
Dream Anguish
My thought of thee is tortured in my sleep--Sometimes thou art near beside me, but a cloudDoth grudge me thy pale face, and rise to creepSlowly about thee, to lap thee in a shroud;And I, as standing by my dead, to weepDesirous, cannot weep, nor cry aloud.Or we must face the clamouring of a crowdHissing our shame; and I who ought to keepThine honour safe and my betrayed heart proud,Knowing thee true, must watch a chill doubt leapThe tired faith of thee, and thy head bow'd,Nor budge while the gross world holdeth thee cheap!Or there are frost-bound meetings, and reproachAt parting, furtive snatches full of fear;Love grown a pain; we bleed to kiss, and kissBecause we bleed for love; the time doth broachShame, and shame teareth at us till we t...
Maurice Henry Hewlett
The Heart's Desire
God made her body out of foam and flowers,And for her hair the dawn and darkness blent;Then called two planets from their heavenly towers,And in her face, divinely eloquent,Gave them a firmament.God made her heart of rosy ice and fire,Of snow and flame, that freezes while it burns;And of a starbeam and a moth's desireHe made her soul, to'ards which my longing turns,And all my being yearns.So is my life a prisoner unto passion,Enslaved of her who gives nor sign nor word;So in the cage her loveliness doth fashionIs love endungeoned, like a golden birdThat sings but is not heard.Could it but once convince her with beseeching!But once compel her as the sun the South!Could it but once, fond arms around her reaching,Upon...
Madison Julius Cawein
Never.
Two dark-brown eyes looked into mine Two eyes with restless quiver;A gentle hand crept in my own Beside the gleaming river."Ah, sweet," I murmured, passing sad, You will forget me ever?"The dear, brown eyes their answer gave; "I will forget you NEVER."Up in the leaves above our heads The winds were softly dying;Down in the river at our feet The lilies pale were lying.The winds their mournful murmur sent: You will forget me ever?The lilies raised their drooping heads: We will forget you never.A spell hung o'er the numbered hours That chained each thought and feeling;My heart was filled with idle dreams That sent my sense reeling.Once more I murmured, "Well, I know Y...
Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
Sonnet - The Love Of Narcissus
Like him who met his own eyes in the river, The poet trembles at his own long gaze That meets him through the changing nights and daysFrom out great Nature; all her waters quiverWith his fair image facing him for ever; The music that he listens to betrays His own heart to his ears; by trackless waysHis wild thoughts tend to him in long endeavour.His dreams are far among the silent hills; His vague voice calls him from the darkened plainWith winds at night; strange recognition thrills His lonely heart with piercing love and pain;He knows his sweet mirth in the mountain rills, His weary tears that touch him with the rain.
Alice Meynell
Love's Young Dream.
Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove;When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come, Of milder, calmer beam,But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream;No, there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.Tho' the bard to purer fame may soar, When wild youth's past;Tho' he win the wise, who frowned before, To smile at last; He'll never meet A joy so sweet, In all his noon of fame,As when first he sung to woman's ear His soul-felt flame,And, at every close, she blushed to hear The one lov'd name....
Thomas Moore
A Womans Last Word
I.Lets contend no more, Love,Strive nor weep:All be as before, Love,Only sleep!II.What so wild as words are?I and thouIn debate, as birds are,Hawk on bough!III.See the creature stalkingWhile we speak!Hush and hide the talking,Cheek on cheek!IV.What so false as truth is,False to thee?Where the serpents tooth isShun the treeV.Where the apple reddensNever pryLest we lose our Edens,Eve and I.VI.Be a god and hold meWith a charm!Be a man and fold meWith thine arm!VII.Teach me, only teach, LoveAs I oughtI will speak thy speech, Love,Think thy thoughtVIII....
Robert Browning
Upon One Lily, Who Married With A Maid Called Rose.
What times of sweetness this fair day foreshows,Whenas the Lily marries with the Rose!What next is look'd for? but we all should seeTo spring from thee a sweet posterity.
Robert Herrick