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The Choice Of Sweet Shy Clare.
Fair as a wreath of fresh spring flowers, a band of maidens layOn the velvet sward - enjoying the golden summer day;And many a ringing silv'ry laugh on the calm air clearly fell,With fancies sweet, which their rosy lips, half unwilling, seemed to tell.They spoke, as maidens often speak, of that ideal oneBy whom the wealth of their warm young hearts will at length be wooed and won -Fond girlish dreams! and half in jest and half in serious strain,Each told of the gifts that could alone the prize of her love obtain.The first who spoke was a bright-eyed girl, with a form of airy grace,Mirth beaming in every dimple sweet of her joyous smiling face:"I ask not much in the favor'd one who this dainty hand would gain; -No ordeal long would I ask of him - no hours of ment...
Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
To The Beloved Dead - A Lament
Beloved, thou art like a tune that idle fingers Play on a window-pane.The time is there, the form of music lingers; But O thou sweetest strain,Where is thy soul? Thou liest i' the wind and rain.Even as to him who plays that idle air, It seems a melody,For his own soul is full of it, so, my Fair, Dead, thou dost live in me,And all this lonely soul is full of thee.Thou song of songs!-not music as before Unto the outward ear;My spirit sings thee inly evermore, Thy falls with tear on tear.I fail for thee, thou art too sweet, too dear.Thou silent song, thou ever voiceless rhyme, Is there no pulse to move thee,At windy dawn, with a wild heart beating time, And falling tears above thee,O musi...
Alice Meynell
Young Love XIV - A June Lily
[The poet dramatises his Lady's loneliness]Alone! once more alone! how like a tombMy little parlour sounds which only nowYearned like some holy chancel with his voice.So still! so empty! Surely one might fearThe walls should meet in ruinous collapseThat held no more his music. Yet they standFirm in a foolish firmness, meaninglessAs frescoed sepulchre some Pharaoh builtBut never came to sleep in; built, indeed,For - that grey moth to flit in like a ghost!Alone! another feast-day come and gone,Watched through the weeks as in my garden thereI watch a seedling grow from blade to budImpatient for its blossom. So this dayHas bloomed at last, and we have plucked its flowerAnd shared its sweetness, and once more the timeIs as t...
Richard Le Gallienne
Two Sisters.
Well may you sit within, and, fond of grief,Look in each other's face, and melt in tears.Well may you shun all counsel, all relief.Oh she was great in mind, tho' young in years!Chang'd is that lovely countenance, which shedLight when she spoke; and kindled sweet surprise,As o'er her frame each warm emotion spread,Play'd round her lips, and sparkled in her eyes.Those lips so pure, that mov'd but to persuade,Still to the last enliven'd and endear'd.Those eyes at once her secret soul convey'd,And ever beam'd delight when you appear'd.Yet has she fled the life of bliss below,That youthful Hope in bright perspective drew?False were the tints! false as the feverish glowThat o'er her burning cheek Distemper threw!And now in joy...
Samuel Rogers
Consecration.
Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it,Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Lines
I 'm ashamed, - that 's the fact, - it 's a pitiful case, -Won't any kind classmate get up in my place?Just remember how often I've risen before, -I blush as I straighten my legs on the floor!There are stories, once pleasing, too many times told, -There are beauties once charming, too fearfully old, -There are voices we've heard till we know them so well,Though they talked for an hour they'd have nothing to tell.Yet, Classmates! Friends! Brothers! Dear blessed old boys!Made one by a lifetime of sorrows and joys,What lips have such sounds as the poorest of these,Though honeyed, like Plato's, by musical bees?What voice is so sweet and what greeting so dearAs the simple, warm welcome that waits for us here?The love of our boyhood still breat...
Oliver Wendell Holmes
An Elective Course
Lines Found Among The Papers Of A Harvard UndergraduateThe bloom that lies on Fanny's cheekIs all my Latin, all my Greek;The only sciences I knowAre frowns that gloom and smiles that glow;Siberia and ItalyLie in her sweet geography;No scholarship have I but suchAs teaches me to love her much.Why should I strive to read the skies,Who know the midnight of her eyes?Why should I go so very farTo learn what heavenly bodies are!Not Berenice's starry hairWith Fanny's tresses can compare;Not Venus on a cloudless night,Enslaving Science with her light,Ever reveals so much as whenSHE stares and droops her lids again.If Nature's secrets are forbiddenTo mortals, she may keep them hidden.AEons and aeons we pro...
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Love's Burial.
Let us clear a little space,And make Love a burial place.He is dead, dear, as you see,And he wearies you and me,Growing heavier, day by day,Let us bury him, I say.Wings of dead white butterflies,These shall shroud him, as he liesIn his casket rich and rare,Made of finest maiden-hair.With the pollen of the roseLet us his white eye-lids close.Put the rose thorn in his hand,Shorn of leaves - you understand.Let some holy water fallOn his dead face, tears of gall -As we kneel by him and say,"Dreams to dreams," and turn away.Those grave diggers, Doubt, Distrust,They will lower him to the dust.Let us part here with a kiss,You go that way, I go this.Si...
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Valentine Verses, Sent To My Young Friend, Miss Emma Trevelyan, Of Wallington-House, Northumberland.
Emma! 'tis early time for theeTo hear the sounds of minstrelsy,That breathe around the rosy shrineOf honest old Saint Valentine.Too young art thou for strains of love;'Tis not thy passion I would move;Instead of lover's strains, I sendThe cordial wishes of a friend.Nobly has Nature done her duty,To give thee of thy mother's beautySo large a share - oh! then be thineThe mental charms that in her shine!And may thy father's taste refin'dStill add new graces to thy mind;And may'st thou to each charm impartThe gen'rous frankness of his heart.Then, my sweet Emma! thou shall moveIn many a heart more genuine loveThan ever warm'd poetic line,Or sigh'd in any Valentine.
John Carr
To .... ....
Never mind how the pedagogue proses, You want not antiquity's stamp;A lip, that such fragrance discloses, Oh! never should smell of the lamp.Old Cloe, whose withering kiss Hath long set the Loves at defiance,Now, done with the science of bliss, May take to the blisses of science.But for you to be buried in books-- Ah, Fanny, they're pitiful sages,Who could not in one of your looks Read more than in millions of pages.Astronomy finds in those eyes Better light than she studies above;And Music would borrow your sighs As the melody fittest for Love.Your Arithmetic only can trip If to count your own charms you endeavor;And Eloquence glows on your lip When you swear...
Thomas Moore
On A Fan Of The Author's Design
Come gentle Air! th' AEolian shepherd said,While Procris panted in the secret shade:Come, gentle Air, the fairer Delia cries,While at her feet her swain expiring lies.Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray,Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play!In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound:Both gifts destructive to the givers prove;Alike both lovers fall by those they love.Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives,At random wounds, nor knows the wound she gives:She views the story with attentive eyes,And pities Procris, while her lover dies.
Alexander Pope
Song.
Wilt thou, because thy Florio loves,Forsake the giddy glitt'ring throng,With him to dwell in peaceful groves,With him to hear the shepherd's song?Can'st thou, without a sigh, resignThe homage by thy charms inspir'd?To one, oh! say, can'st thou confineWhat oft so many have admir'd?Sweet maid! oh! bless'd shall be our love,Till time shall bid it cease to flow;With thee shall ev'ry moment proveA little heaven form'd below!
A Song.
I.No riches from his scanty store My lover could impart;He gave a boon I valued more - He gave me all his heart!II.His soul sincere, his gen'rous worth, Might well this bosom move;And when I ask'd for bliss on earth, I only meant his love.III.But now for me, in search of gain From shore to shore he flies:Why wander riches to obtain, When love is all I prize?IV.The frugal meal, the lowly cot If blest my love with thee!That simple fare, that humble lot, Were more than wealth to me.V.While he the dang'rous ocean braves, My tears but vainly flow:Is pity in the faithless waves To which I pour my ...
Helen Maria Williams
Eternity Of Love Protested
How ill doth he deserve a lovers name,Whose pale weak flameCannot retainHis heat, in spite of absence or disdain;But doth at once, like paper set on fire,Burn and expire;True love can never change his seat,Nor did her ever love, that could retreat.That noble flame which my breast keeps aliveShall still surviveWhen my souls fled;Nor shall my love die when my bodys dead,That shall wait on me to the lower shade,And never fade;My very ashes in their urnShall, like a hallowd lamp, forever burn.
Thomas Carew
These shades were made for Love alone, -Here only smiles and kisses sweetShall play around his flow'ry throne,And doves shall sentinel the seat.Come, Delia! 'tis a genial day;It bids us to his bow'r repair: -"But what will little Cupid say?" -"Say! sweet? - why, give a welcome there."There not a tell-tale beam shall peepUpon thy beauty's rich display, -There not a breeze shall dare to sweepThe leaves, to whisper what we say.
Grown And Flown
I loved my love from green of Spring Until sere Autumn's fall;But now that leaves are withering How should one love at all? One heart's too smallFor hunger, cold, love, everything.I loved my love on sunny days Until late Summer's wane;But now that frost begins to glaze How should one love again? Nay, love and painWalk wide apart in diverse ways.I loved my love - alas to see That this should be, alas!I thought that this could scarcely be, Yet has it come to pass: Sweet sweet love was,Now bitter bitter grown to me.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
The Sea-Captain's Wooing.
Put the crown of your love on my forehead,Its sweet links clasped with a kiss,And all the great monarchs of EnglandNever wore such a gem as this.Give me your hand, little maiden,That sceptre so pearly white,And I'll envy not the kingliest wandThat ever waved in might.I know 'tis like asking a morning cloudWith a grim old mountain to stay,But your love would soften its ruggedness,And melt its roughness away.I have seen a delicate rosy cloud,A rough, gray cliff enfold,Till his heart was warmed by its loveliness,And his brow was tinged with its gold.Oh, poor and mean does my life showCompared with the beauty of thine,Like a diamond embedded in graniteYour life would be set in mine;But a faithful love should guar...
Marietta Holley
Fare Thee Well
[Clare's note:--"Scraps from my father and mother, completed."] Here's a sad good bye for thee, my love, To friends and foes a smile: I leave but one regret behind, That's left with thee the while, But hopes that fortune is our friend Already pays the toil. Force bids me go, your friends to please. Would they were not so high! But be my lot on land or seas, It matters not where by, For I shall keep a thought for thee, In my heart's core to lie. Winter shall lose its frost and snow, The spring its blossomed thorn, The summer all its bloom forego, The autumn hound and horn Ere I will lose that thought of thee, Or ever prove forsworn. The dove shall ...
John Clare