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Comfort At Parting
O little Heart,So much I seeThy hidden smart,So much I longTo sing some songTo comfort thee.For, little Heart,Indeed, indeed,The hour to partMakes cruel speed;Yet, dear, think thouHow even now,With happy haste,With eager feet,The hour when weAgain shall meetCometh across the waste.
Richard Le Gallienne
The Young Greek Odalisque.
'Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,And fairer form the harem's walls had ne'er before enshrined;'Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair.'Tis true that orbs as dark as hers in melting softness shone,And lips whose coral hue might vie in brightness with her own;And forms as light as ever might in Moslem's heaven be found,So full of beauty's witching grace, were lightly hovering round.Yet, oh, how paled their brilliant charms before that beauteous oneWho, 'mid their gay mirth, silent sat, from all apart - alone,Outshining all, not by the spells of lovely face or form,But by the soul that shone through all, her peerless, priceless charm.
Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Three Years She Grew
Three years she grew in sun and shower,Then Nature said, A lovelier flowerOn earth was never sown;This Child I to myself will take;She shall be mine, and I will makeA Lady of my own.Myself will to my darling beBoth law and impulse: and with meThe Girl, in rock and plain,In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,Shall feel an overseeing powerTo kindle or restrain.She shall be sportive as the fawnThat wild with glee across the lawnOr up the mountain springs;And hers shall be the breathing balm,And hers the silence and the calmOf mute insensate things.The floating clouds their state shall lendTo her; for her the willow bend;Nor shall she fail to seeEven in the motions of the StormGrace that s...
William Wordsworth
Spring On Mattagami
Far in the east the rain-clouds sweep and harry,Down the long haggard hills, formless and low,Far in the west the shell-tints meet and marry,Piled gray and tender blue and roseate snow;East - like a fiend, the bolt-breasted, streamingStorm strikes the world with lightning and with hail;West - like the thought of a seraph that is dreaming,Venus leads the young moon down the vale.Through the lake furrow between the gloom and bright'ningFirm runs our long canoe with a whistling rush,While Potàn the wise and the cunning Silver LightningBreak with their slender blades the long clear hush;Soon shall I pitch my tent amid the birches,Wise Potàn shall gather boughs of balsam fir,While for bark and dry wood Silver Lightning searches;Soon the smoke shall ...
Duncan Campbell Scott
Love And The Sun-Dial.
Young Love found a Dial once in a dark shadeWhere man ne'er had wandered nor sunbeam played;"Why thus in darkness lie?" whispered young Love,"Thou, whose gay hours in sunshine should move.""I ne'er," said the Dial, "have seen the warm sun,"So noonday and midnight to me, Love, are one."Then Love took the Dial away from the shade,And placed her where Heaven's beam warmly played.There she reclined, beneath Love's gazing eye,While, marked all with sunshine, her hours flew by."Oh, how," said the Dial, "can any fair maid"That's born to be shone upon rest in the shade?"But night now comes on and the sunbeam's o'er,And Love stops to gaze on the Dial no more.Alone and neglected, while bleak rain and windsAre storming around her, with sorrow she fi...
Thomas Moore
My Dear Mistress Has A Heart
My dear mistress has a heartSoft as those kind looks she gave me,When with love's resistless art,And her eyes, she did enslave me;But her constancy's so weak,She's so wild and apt to wander,That my jealous heart would breakShould we live one day asunder.Melting joys about her move,Killing pleasures, wounding blisses;She can dress her eyes in love,And her lips can arm with kisses;Angels listen when she speaks,She's my delight, all mankind's wonder;But my jealous heart would breakShould we live one day asunder.
John Wilmot
Her Only Pilot The Soft Breeze, The Boat
Her only pilot the soft breeze, the boatLingers, but Fancy is well satisfied;With keen-eyed Hope, with Memory, at her side,And the glad Muse at liberty to noteAll that to each is precious, as we floatGently along; regardless who shall chideIf the heavens smile, and leave us free to glide,Happy Associates breathing air remoteFrom trivial cares. But, Fancy and the Muse,Why have I crowded this small bark with youAnd others of your kind, ideal crew!While here sits One whose brightness owes its huesTo flesh and blood; no Goddess from above,No fleeting Spirit, but my own true love?
Astrophel and Stella - Eight Song.
In a groue most rich of shade,Where birds wanton musicke made,Maie, then yong, his pide weedes showing,New-perfum'd with flowers fresh growing:Astrophel with Stella sweetDid for mutual comfort meete,Both within themselues oppressed,But each in the other blessed.Him great harmes had taught much care,Her faire necke a foule yoke bare;But her sight his cares did banish,In his sight her yoke did vanish:Wept they had, alas, the while,But now teares themselues did smile,While their eyes, by Loue directed,Enterchangeably reflected.Sigh they did; but now betwixtSighes of woe were glad sighes mixt;With arms crost, yet testifyingrestlesse rest, and liuing dying.Their eares hungrie of each wordWh...
Philip Sidney
I Know I Love Thee.
I shall never forget the day, Annie,When I bid thee a fond adieu;With a careless good bye I left thee,For my cares and my fears were few.True that thine eyes seemed brightest; -True that none had so fair a brow, -I thought that I loved thee then, Annie,But I knew that I love thee now.I had neither wealth nor beauty,Whilst thou owned of both a share,I bad only a honest purposeAnd the courage the Fates to dare.To all others my heart preferred thee,And 'twas hard to part I know;For I thought that I loved thee then, Annie,But I know that I love thee now.Oh! what would I give to-night, love,Could I clasp thee once again,To my heart that is aching with loving, -To my heart where my love does r...
John Hartley
Better Things
Better to smell a violet,Than sip the careless wine;Better to list one music tone,Than watch the jewels' shine.Better to have the love of one,Than smiles like morning dew;Better to have a living seedThan flowers of every hue.Better to feel a love within,Than be lovely to the sight;Better a homely tendernessThan beauty's wild delight.Better to love than be beloved.Though lonely all the day;Better the fountain in the heart,Than the fountain by the way.Better a feeble love to God,Than for woman's love to pine;Better to have the making GodThan the woman made divine.Better be fed by mother's hand,Than eat alone at will;Better to trust in God, than say:My goods my storehouse fill...
George MacDonald
Loveliness.
I.When I fare forth to kiss the eyes of Spring,On ways, which arch gold sunbeams and pearl budsEmbraced, two whispers we search - wanderingBy goblin forests and by girlish floodsDeep in the hermit-holy solitudes -For stalwart Dryads romping in a ring;Firm limbs an oak-bark-brown, and hair - wild woodsHave perfumed - loops of radiance; and they,Most coyly pleasant, as we linger by,Pout dimpled cheeks, more rose than rosiest sky,Honeyed; and us good-hearted laughter flingLike far-out reefs that flute melodious spray.II.Then we surprise each Naiad ere she slips -Nude at her toilette - in her fountain's glass,With damp locks dewy, and large godlike hipsCool-glittering; but discovered, when - alas!From green, inde...
Madison Julius Cawein
Amor Umbratilis
A gift of Silence, sweet!Who may not ever hear:To lay down at your unobservant feet,Is all the gift I bear.I have no songs to sing,That you should heed or know:I have no lilies, in full hands, to flingAcross the path you go.I cast my flowers away,Blossoms unmeet for you!The garland I have gathered in my day:My rosemary and rue.I watch you pass and pass,Serene and cold: I layMy lips upon your trodden, daisied grass,And turn my life away.Yea, for I cast you, sweet!This one gift, you shall take:Like ointment, on your unobservant feet,My silence, for your sake.
Ernest Christopher Dowson
Translation From The "Medea" Of Euripides [Ll. 627-660].
[Greek: Erotes hyper men agan, K.T.L.[1]]1.When fierce conflicting passions urgeThe breast, where love is wont to glow,What mind can stem the stormy surgeWhich rolls the tide of human woe?The hope of praise, the dread of shame,Can rouse the tortur'd breast no more;The wild desire, the guilty flame,Absorbs each wish it felt before.2.But if affection gently thrillsThe soul, by purer dreams possest,The pleasing balm of mortal illsIn love can soothe the aching breast:If thus thou comest in disguise,Fair Venus! from thy native heaven,What heart, unfeeling, would despiseThe sweetest boon the Gods have given?3.But, never from thy golden bow,May I beneath the...
George Gordon Byron
Sonnet CLV.
Almo Sol, quella fronde ch' io sola amo.TO THE SUN, WHOSE SETTING HID LAURA'S DWELLING FROM HIS VIEW. O blessed Sun! that sole sweet leaf I love,First loved by thee, in its fair seat, alone,Bloometh without a peer, since from aboveTo Adam first our shining ill was shown.Pause we to look on her! Although to stayThy course I pray thee, yet thy beams retire;Their shades the mountains fling, and parting dayParts me from all I most on earth desire.The shadows from yon gentle heights that fall,Where sparkles my sweet fire, where brightly grewThat stately laurel from a sucker small,Increasing, as I speak, hide from my viewThe beauteous landscape and the blessèd scene,Where dwells my true heart with its only queen.MACG...
Francesco Petrarca
To ------
Some time, far hence, when Autumn sheds Her frost upon your hair, And you together sit at dusk, May I come to you there? And lightly will our hearts turn back To this, then distant, day When, while the world was clad in flowers, You two were wed in May. When we shall sit about your board Three old friends met again, Joy will be with us, but not much Of jest and laughter then; For Autumn's large content and calm, Like heaven's own smile, will bless The harvest of your happy lives With store of happiness. May you, who, flankt about with flowers, Will plight your faith ...
John Charles McNeill
The October Night.
POET.My haunting grief has vanished like a dream,Its floating fading memory seems oneWith those frail mists born of the dawn's first beam,Dissolving as the dew melts in the sun.MUSE.What ailed thee then, O poet mine;What secret misery was thine,Which set a bar 'twixt thee and me?Alas, I suffer from it still;What was this grief, this unknown ill,Which I have wept so bitterly?POET.'T was but a common grief, well known of men.But, look you, when our heavy heart is sore,Fond wretches that we are! we fancy thenThat sorrow never has been felt before.MUSE.There cannot be a common grief,Save that of common souls; my friend,Speak out, and give thy heart relief,Of this grim secret make an ...
Emma Lazarus
To a Cat
IStately, kindly, lordly friend,CondescendHere to sit by me, and turnGlorious eyes that smile and burn,Golden eyes, love's lustrous meed,On the golden page I read.All your wondrous wealth of hair,Dark and fair,Silken-shaggy, soft and brightAs the clouds and beams of night,Pays my reverent hand's caressBack with friendlier gentleness.Dogs may fawn on all and someAs they come;You, a friend of loftier mind,Answer friends alone in kind.Just your foot upon my handSoftly bids it understand.Morning round this silent sweetGarden-seatSheds its wealth of gathering light,Thrills the gradual clouds with might,Changes woodland, orchard, heath,Lawn, and garden there beneath.Fair and dim they gleamed below...
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Dedication - Leaves from Australian Forests
To her who, cast with me in trying days,Stood in the place of health and power and praise;Who, when I thought all light was out, becameA lamp of hope that put my fears to shame;Who faced for loves sole sake the life austereThat waits upon the man of letters here;Who, unawares, her deep affection showedBy many a touching little wifely mode;Whose spirit, self-denying, dear, divine,Its sorrows hid, so it might lessen mineTo her, my bright, best friend, I dedicateThis book of songs t will help to compensateFor much neglect. The act, if not the rhyme,Will touch her heart, and lead her to the timeOf trials past. That which is most intenseWithin these leaves is of her influence;And if aught here is sweetened with a toneSincere, like love, it c...
Henry Kendall