Poems By W. C. Bennett: New ed |
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RAVEN-BLACK ARE AMY'S TANGLING TRESSES. |
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RAVEN-BLACK ARE AMY'S TANGLING TRESSES.
Raven-black are Amy's tangling tresses;
Passion-lit are Mary's dark deep eyes;
O how dear are laughing Kate's caresses!
O how sweet are Helen's low replies!
But my heart breaks lightly from their snaring;
Vainly, for its love, their love may call;
While, for yours, O girl, alone 'tis caring,
You, O girl, how fairer far than all!
Passion-lit are Mary's dark deep eyes;
O how dear are laughing Kate's caresses!
O how sweet are Helen's low replies!
But my heart breaks lightly from their snaring;
Vainly, for its love, their love may call;
While, for yours, O girl, alone 'tis caring,
You, O girl, how fairer far than all!
Once, at Jessie's feet Love threw me sighing;
Once, 'twas Alice haunted all my dreams;
To my fancy, love, there's no denying,
Jane once seem'd more fair than now she seems;
Spells have all that, ah! well might have caught me,
That might well a wayward heart recal;
Mine they lure no more, since Love has taught me
How far fairer you are, girl, than all.
Once, 'twas Alice haunted all my dreams;
To my fancy, love, there's no denying,
Jane once seem'd more fair than now she seems;
Spells have all that, ah! well might have caught me,
That might well a wayward heart recal;
Mine they lure no more, since Love has taught me
How far fairer you are, girl, than all.
No—a rebel to their sovereign ruling
I no more at their sweet shrines adore;
To their rites, they other hearts are schooling;
Mine is lost to theirs for evermore.
From their altars other incense rises;
At their feet, new worshippers may fall;
Girl, at last, my fancy only prizes
Your sweet smile, how dearer far than all!
I no more at their sweet shrines adore;
To their rites, they other hearts are schooling;
Mine is lost to theirs for evermore.
From their altars other incense rises;
At their feet, new worshippers may fall;
Girl, at last, my fancy only prizes
Your sweet smile, how dearer far than all!
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