 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
VERSES TO A MARCHIONESS.
O fairer yet than eye can see,
As clouds are purer than the clod;
My dreamland draws its light from thee,
And thou thy light from God.
As clouds are purer than the clod;
My dreamland draws its light from thee,
And thou thy light from God.
Serenely settled as a star,
In splendid spaces of the sky,
Thy beauty shining from afar,
Still raises me on high.
In splendid spaces of the sky,
Thy beauty shining from afar,
Still raises me on high.
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My fancy wavers in its flight,
To reach thy pure and lofty place;
A dazzling veil falls on my sight,
The glory of thy face.
To reach thy pure and lofty place;
A dazzling veil falls on my sight,
The glory of thy face.
Thou breathest in a larger air,
The brightness of the Orient beam;
And if thou art so wondrous fair,
What must thy Fountain seem!
The brightness of the Orient beam;
And if thou art so wondrous fair,
What must thy Fountain seem!
But woe to him who wonders long,
And gazes much on spheres above;
Whose admiration waxing strong,
Shall deepen into love.
And gazes much on spheres above;
Whose admiration waxing strong,
Shall deepen into love.
We cannot only fix our eyes,
The fettered heart will follow soon;
As ocean when it flows or flies,
Must follow still the moon.
The fettered heart will follow soon;
As ocean when it flows or flies,
Must follow still the moon.
I only bear what others bore,
And all my feelings fear to guess;
If thee I truly love the more,
Or seek myself the less.
And all my feelings fear to guess;
If thee I truly love the more,
Or seek myself the less.
Thy goodness lures me with its charm,
To grander forms from fabrics thin;
And awful were thy power to harm,
If gods could fashion sin.
To grander forms from fabrics thin;
And awful were thy power to harm,
If gods could fashion sin.
Are suns as conscious of their might,
As those who revel in their rays?
And do they feel the joy of light,
Of making nights and days?
As those who revel in their rays?
And do they feel the joy of light,
Of making nights and days?
Ah, no, they never mete their strength,
Nor half their little kingdoms know;
They never dream the dreadful length,
A sunless soul will go.
Nor half their little kingdoms know;
They never dream the dreadful length,
A sunless soul will go.
O, when thou shinest, lovely orb,
And homage brings me to my knee;
Though thousands more thy gleams absorb,
Yet shine a while on me.
And homage brings me to my knee;
Though thousands more thy gleams absorb,
Yet shine a while on me.
The humblest herb must have its share,
Of sunshine as of dewy shade;
Or killing grows the kindly air,
That lacks the sunshine's aid.
Of sunshine as of dewy shade;
Or killing grows the kindly air,
That lacks the sunshine's aid.
Some bow where lesser lustres are,
And every system has its sun;
I own no second sun or star,
I worship only one.
And every system has its sun;
I own no second sun or star,
I worship only one.
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There are who tribute fondly give,
To any dazzling cheat or thief;
To meteors that a moment live,
To visions bright and brief.
To any dazzling cheat or thief;
To meteors that a moment live,
To visions bright and brief.
The falling stars and fallen light,
Have yet their courtiers by the score;
And wildly blaze the flames at night,
That burned by day before.
Have yet their courtiers by the score;
And wildly blaze the flames at night,
That burned by day before.
Let triflers talk of regal mien,
Of glorious eyes and noble brow;
To me there is no other queen,
One half as sweet as thou.
Of glorious eyes and noble brow;
To me there is no other queen,
One half as sweet as thou.
Though one has lips that shame the rose,
And one a blossom for her breast;
I honour every flower that blows,
I can but love the best.
And one a blossom for her breast;
I honour every flower that blows,
I can but love the best.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |