Love-Lore (1895) | ||
169
LOVE-LORE
[1887]
Changeful as Proteus, vagrant as the air,
Love has three names,—Hope, Rapture, and Despair.
Love has three names,—Hope, Rapture, and Despair.
171
PROLOGUE
In the days when Earth was young
Beauty had not found a tongue:
For the Gods forbade her speech,
Lest her voice too soon should teach
All the bliss that Love bestows,
All the lore that heaven knows.
Beauty had not found a tongue:
For the Gods forbade her speech,
Lest her voice too soon should teach
All the bliss that Love bestows,
All the lore that heaven knows.
Through the bleak world wandering,
Silent Beauty yet could bring
Unto many an anxious thought
Dreams of heaven, else untaught:
Everywhere that she might come
She of heaven spoke, though dumb.
Silent Beauty yet could bring
Unto many an anxious thought
Dreams of heaven, else untaught:
Everywhere that she might come
She of heaven spoke, though dumb.
Waited all the Gods the event,—
Love alone impatient:
Unto Beauty then he led,
Blushing as he whispered,
One who kiss'd her. So her tongue
Was freed, and the first poet's song.
Love alone impatient:
Unto Beauty then he led,
Blushing as he whispered,
One who kiss'd her. So her tongue
Was freed, and the first poet's song.
172
YET AGAIN
Yet again! yet again!
Dearest Love! you do but feign.
That a kiss?
Or that? or this?
Must I ask you yet again?
Dearest Love! you do but feign.
That a kiss?
Or that? or this?
Must I ask you yet again?
173
Yet again! yet again,
Lover mine! as you were fain
Me to kiss!
What is amiss,
You permit me—to complain?
Lover mine! as you were fain
Me to kiss!
What is amiss,
You permit me—to complain?
Yet again! yet again!
Kisses should be swift as rain:
Every kiss
Repeats its bliss:
Kiss me now, and then again!
Kisses should be swift as rain:
Every kiss
Repeats its bliss:
Kiss me now, and then again!
174
HYMENEAL
O love! behold this Pair
By Hymen brought together:
Look on them young and fair,
Give them fair weather!
Make them to be
As He and She
Were but time-sunder'd, and now brought together
Eternally must pair!
By Hymen brought together:
Look on them young and fair,
Give them fair weather!
Make them to be
As He and She
Were but time-sunder'd, and now brought together
Eternally must pair!
Make each according heart
So one with the other coupled
That, each of the other part,
'Tis one heart doubled:
So made to be
That He and She
Estrangement conquer'd, now in concord coupled,
Must own one single heart.
So one with the other coupled
175
'Tis one heart doubled:
So made to be
That He and She
Estrangement conquer'd, now in concord coupled,
Must own one single heart.
Love! hold thou fast this Pair;
Hymen! keep them together;
Whatever storms they share,
Whate'er the weather:
Yet leave them free:
That He and She
Love gladly—not as slaves compell'd together,
An ever-willing Pair.
Hymen! keep them together;
Whatever storms they share,
Whate'er the weather:
Yet leave them free:
That He and She
Love gladly—not as slaves compell'd together,
An ever-willing Pair.
177
THE FAIR UNFAIR
Too fair for me whose grief is thy unfairness,
O Fair Unfair! and most unfair to me:
Beguiler, whose rich beauty lack'd no rareness
Except that rarest beauty, constancy!
Why didst thou take my heart with loving words,
To break, and fling away the worthless sherds?
O Fair Unfair! and most unfair to me:
Beguiler, whose rich beauty lack'd no rareness
Except that rarest beauty, constancy!
Why didst thou take my heart with loving words,
To break, and fling away the worthless sherds?
These rude sad sobs, poor fragments of lamenting,
My heart-remains, I render back to thee,
O fairest Falsehood! unto truth consenting,
Then turning, true but to inconstancy.
Take my last gift, my lost heart's worthless sherds,
All that is due to One whose vows were words.
My heart-remains, I render back to thee,
O fairest Falsehood! unto truth consenting,
Then turning, true but to inconstancy.
Take my last gift, my lost heart's worthless sherds,
All that is due to One whose vows were words.
WEED-LIKE
Did you not say you loved me?
And I—Enough, your word
I could not doubt,—I heard.
What change hath now removed me
Out of the garden of your thought,
As if I were a weed unsought?
And I—Enough, your word
I could not doubt,—I heard.
What change hath now removed me
Out of the garden of your thought,
As if I were a weed unsought?
178
The flower of love you cherish'd
In me (I had your word,
That like some passing bird
Dropp'd a fair seed), unperish'd,
Must it be only weeded out
By that worst foe of the garden, Doubt?
In me (I had your word,
That like some passing bird
Dropp'd a fair seed), unperish'd,
Must it be only weeded out
By that worst foe of the garden, Doubt?
O Love! who this forsaking
Seëst, I have no word
Of prayer; but thou hast heard,
And carest for this heart-aching.
Thine is the hurt when in dark hours
Men cast away thy very flowers.
Seëst, I have no word
Of prayer; but thou hast heard,
And carest for this heart-aching.
Thine is the hurt when in dark hours
Men cast away thy very flowers.
181
OF INCONSTANCY
What wonder when the Sun's away
We wander by the paler light?
What wonder at the close of day
We listen to the bird of night?
And yet the Sun may be our choice,
The lark's song most our souls rejoice.
We wander by the paler light?
What wonder at the close of day
We listen to the bird of night?
And yet the Sun may be our choice,
The lark's song most our souls rejoice.
Of better Burgundy deprived,
Bordeaux contents me for a while:
Is it not so, though haply wived,
One may accept a passing smile?
Because I love Thee more than all,
Must none thy loveliness recall?
Bordeaux contents me for a while:
Is it not so, though haply wived,
One may accept a passing smile?
Because I love Thee more than all,
Must none thy loveliness recall?
When Mars was absent, was it shame
That Venus for young Adon pined?
When Mars return'd, her constant flame
Tow'rd him as steadily inclined.
Dear! if the Mother of Love can change,
Dost wonder Cupid's votaries range?
That Venus for young Adon pined?
When Mars return'd, her constant flame
Tow'rd him as steadily inclined.
Dear! if the Mother of Love can change,
Dost wonder Cupid's votaries range?
183
WHY I LOVE
Not for all thy beauty's splendour,
Not for all the loving tender
Of thy grace to me observant,
Am I, Dear! thy grateful servant,—
Nor for all thy gifts and graces,—
But because my thought still places
Thee with other things divine,
Do I love thee, Lady mine!
Not for all the loving tender
Of thy grace to me observant,
Am I, Dear! thy grateful servant,—
Nor for all thy gifts and graces,—
But because my thought still places
Thee with other things divine,
Do I love thee, Lady mine!
For thy truth and holiest chasteness,
Where thy love as in a fastness
Welcomes me, for thy devotion
To haught honour, thine emotion—
Pitiful yet justly dealing
Spite of womanliest feeling,—
For thou art perfection's sign,
Do I love thee, Lady mine!
Where thy love as in a fastness
Welcomes me, for thy devotion
To haught honour, thine emotion—
Pitiful yet justly dealing
Spite of womanliest feeling,—
For thou art perfection's sign,
Do I love thee, Lady mine!
Were I all thy virtues telling,
Heralds' catalogues outswelling,
Other reasons well could measure
Why in thee my love has pleasure:
But I need not fill the story,—
Whoso know thee see the glory
Circling round thy face divine,
Why I love thee, Lady mine!
Heralds' catalogues outswelling,
Other reasons well could measure
Why in thee my love has pleasure:
But I need not fill the story,—
Whoso know thee see the glory
184
Why I love thee, Lady mine!
185
LEAP-YEAR
Venus leans her cheek against
His shoulder turn'd away:
“Love me, Adon! though thou feignst:
Thou wilt love me,—say!”
His shoulder turn'd away:
“Love me, Adon! though thou feignst:
Thou wilt love me,—say!”
186
“Loveliest face!” she draws it down;
And “Push me not away!”
Adon answers with a frown;
“Thou wilt love me?” Nay!
And “Push me not away!”
Adon answers with a frown;
“Thou wilt love me?” Nay!
She has kiss'd his close cold lips,
Her fond whisper may
But repeat her kiss; she clips
Him closer: yet 'tis Nay!
Her fond whisper may
But repeat her kiss; she clips
Him closer: yet 'tis Nay!
Venus! vainly dost thou tempt:
Love but yesterday
Thee forsook. O Love-exempt!
Wherefore dost thou pray?
Love but yesterday
Thee forsook. O Love-exempt!
Wherefore dost thou pray?
188
LOST LOVE
As the rain-drops on the sand,
As the snow-flakes on the sea,
Is my love, with lavish hand
Shower'd in vain on thee:
To be lost
Like the frost
Of yet green mornings smiled on sunnily.
As the snow-flakes on the sea,
Is my love, with lavish hand
Shower'd in vain on thee:
To be lost
Like the frost
Of yet green mornings smiled on sunnily.
As the the rain-drops on the sand,
As the snow-flakes on the sea,
Is my love: thy empty hand
Wastes it, spurning me.
Love's cold ghost,
Like the frost
Of wintry mornings, lingereth sullenly.
As the snow-flakes on the sea,
Is my love: thy empty hand
Wastes it, spurning me.
Love's cold ghost,
Like the frost
Of wintry mornings, lingereth sullenly.
189
ACROSS THE WORLD
Across the world, my Dear!
My hope shall reach to thee;
Nor Joy, nor Doubt, nor Fear,
Our severance be.
My hope shall reach to thee;
Nor Joy, nor Doubt, nor Fear,
Our severance be.
Joy will some echo wake,
Bringing thee ever near;
And Doubt for thy dear sake
Departs with Fear.
Bringing thee ever near;
And Doubt for thy dear sake
Departs with Fear.
And Grief herself shall look
On me with those dear eyes,
As absently she took
Her one disguise.
On me with those dear eyes,
As absently she took
Her one disguise.
Across the world, my Dear!
Though I may seem to roam,
My heart is ever here
With thee, at home.
Though I may seem to roam,
My heart is ever here
With thee, at home.
190
HEAVENLY EYES
Tell me not of heavenly eyes,
Suddenly glancing to surprize
(As the sun in days which are
Cloudy) eyes that watch and dare!
Suddenly glancing to surprize
(As the sun in days which are
Cloudy) eyes that watch and dare!
Tell me not of bosom'd snow,
With volcanic depths below
Of a heart whose hidden fires
Kindle uncontroul'd desires!
With volcanic depths below
Of a heart whose hidden fires
Kindle uncontroul'd desires!
Tell me not of wisest ways,
And the subtlety bewrays
How love's waited for, and yet
Is not sure it will be met!
And the subtlety bewrays
How love's waited for, and yet
Is not sure it will be met!
Tell me rather of a soul
Loving, but with such controul
O'er itself that it may be
Sure of its serenity!
Loving, but with such controul
O'er itself that it may be
Sure of its serenity!
Tell me of a form so fair
I scarce think of fairness there,
Knowing how it doth enshrine
All that love holds most divine!
I scarce think of fairness there,
Knowing how it doth enshrine
All that love holds most divine!
191
Tell me of sufficient wit
Love need not be shamed of it!
Fair or foul, as others deem,
Thts is She I hold supreme.
Love need not be shamed of it!
Fair or foul, as others deem,
Thts is She I hold supreme.
Be she homely, ay! as true,
Thorough-loving, trusting through,
Though she have not heavenly eyes,
This is She as heaven I prize.
Thorough-loving, trusting through,
Though she have not heavenly eyes,
This is She as heaven I prize.
WAITING
Why should I wait, O Lover!
Hearing thy call? I come.
Wait? when thou dost discover
Thy heart—my home.
Hearing thy call? I come.
Wait? when thou dost discover
Thy heart—my home.
Why should I wait, Belovèd!
Ready to meet thy call?
What though thou be unprovèd,
Thine am I, all.
Ready to meet thy call?
What though thou be unprovèd,
Thine am I, all.
Yet could I wait, dear Lover!
Wanting thy voice (O heart!)
Were it but one step over
To where thou art.
Wanting thy voice (O heart!)
Were it but one step over
To where thou art.
193
COUNT OF TIME
How shall we count our hours?
Nay, Love! our kisses count
Our love's amount
While the fount of time is ours.
Nay, Love! our kisses count
Our love's amount
While the fount of time is ours.
Count we our moments? Dear!
Each moment is a kiss:
Why, 'twere amiss
To account for even a year.
Each moment is a kiss:
Why, 'twere amiss
To account for even a year.
Who counts his kisses knows
How much he did expend
At his love's end.
Our love shall have no close.
How much he did expend
At his love's end.
Our love shall have no close.
194
HERO'S SONG
“Yet again, O my Leander!—
Ere the happier Hours depart,
Watching thee while thou dost wander
Far from where thou leavest thy heart.
Yet again, before the dullness
Of the daylight hides thy form!
Love! O Love! be ours the fullness
Of delight before the storm.
Ere the happier Hours depart,
Watching thee while thou dost wander
Far from where thou leavest thy heart.
Yet again, before the dullness
Of the daylight hides thy form!
Love! O Love! be ours the fullness
Of delight before the storm.
195
“Night! Day can not lend thee splendour,
Night that brings Leander here:
Hasten, Day! thy joys surrender
For the presence of my Dear.
Day of gloom! Night had such glory:”—
Ere she mourn'd her Castaway.
Readers of Leander's story
Love the night before the day.
Night that brings Leander here:
Hasten, Day! thy joys surrender
For the presence of my Dear.
Day of gloom! Night had such glory:”—
Ere she mourn'd her Castaway.
Readers of Leander's story
Love the night before the day.
201
GRIEF
Draw thy hand across thine eyes!
Turn away!
No tear fall for One who lies
There to-day!
Turn away!
No tear fall for One who lies
There to-day!
Speak no word, nor seem to heed
What they say!
Can a dead heart care indeed?
Thine to-day.
What they say!
Can a dead heart care indeed?
Thine to-day.
One in grave and One grief-slain,
Clay to clay!
Parted ne'er to meet again:
Pass away!
Clay to clay!
Parted ne'er to meet again:
Pass away!
202
MY MAIDEN
Fair is she, as a morn most fair,
And pure as earliest dew;
Like Spring's first gold her crisped hair,
Like heaven her eyes' deep blue;
Her form is as the leopard's lithe,
Her step as a wild fawn's free;
And like her heart her song is blithe
With loving thoughts of me.
And pure as earliest dew;
Like Spring's first gold her crisped hair,
Like heaven her eyes' deep blue;
Her form is as the leopard's lithe,
Her step as a wild fawn's free;
And like her heart her song is blithe
With loving thoughts of me.
203
Glad thoughts, a halo round her face,
Her heart is so astir:
O love, my love, give me the grace
Of thoughts as worthy Her!
Sweet Heart! the very Gods were glad
Its sweet outcome to see;
And I a God since when She had
Glad loving thoughts of me.
Her heart is so astir:
O love, my love, give me the grace
Of thoughts as worthy Her!
Sweet Heart! the very Gods were glad
Its sweet outcome to see;
And I a God since when She had
Glad loving thoughts of me.
WHICH OF US
Surely we both loved passing well.
How it happen'd I can not tell,
But so it came:
Was She fickle or was I tired?
Whose the blame?
Say that neither of us inquired
Of that same.
How it happen'd I can not tell,
But so it came:
Was She fickle or was I tired?
Whose the blame?
Say that neither of us inquired
Of that same.
But this happen'd: one hazy day
One of the twain was far astray;
But how it came,
Whether 'twas I or She who went,
'Tis no blame.
Both may be wrong yet innocent
All the same.
One of the twain was far astray;
But how it came,
Whether 'twas I or She who went,
'Tis no blame.
Both may be wrong yet innocent
All the same.
209
WHICH
Which art thou? boy or girl, with face
So frank, devoid of shame,
And closely curling hair,
And with that rare
Ingenuousness which would dishearten Blame,
If Blame dared bring disgrace.
So frank, devoid of shame,
And closely curling hair,
And with that rare
Ingenuousness which would dishearten Blame,
If Blame dared bring disgrace.
Art thou Apollo?—here again
In simple shepherd guise,
Simple, but gracious too,
As when he knew
To please Admetus, with those level eyes
Of most divine disdain.
In simple shepherd guise,
Simple, but gracious too,
As when he knew
To please Admetus, with those level eyes
Of most divine disdain.
Art Dian, only chastely hymn'd?—
Or Nymph of Dian's Court,
At home in the green wood?
Methinks I could
Attempt Actæon—happy in such sort,
My sight thereafter dimm'd.
Or Nymph of Dian's Court,
At home in the green wood?
Methinks I could
Attempt Actæon—happy in such sort,
My sight thereafter dimm'd.
Which art thou?—I need ask no more:
For my too venturing speech
Hath scarcely touch'd thy cheek,
And what I seek
Is found in the swift blush, red as a peach,
Mantling thy sweet face o'er.
For my too venturing speech
Hath scarcely touch'd thy cheek,
210
Is found in the swift blush, red as a peach,
Mantling thy sweet face o'er.
212
A HEALTH
A health to the damosel tall!
A health to my lass, though small!
Black eyes, or blue,
Or brown will do,—
Or green: we will drink to all.
A health to my lass, though small!
Black eyes, or blue,
Or brown will do,—
Or green: we will drink to all.
A health to the maiden slim,
If her eyes but with love are dim!
Here's to the stout,
Loving, no doubt!
I'd pledge them both for a whim.
If her eyes but with love are dim!
Here's to the stout,
Loving, no doubt!
I'd pledge them both for a whim.
Drink, drink to both dark and fair!
To the girl with the golden hair;
To her with the black;
And never slack
Till the red has a handsome share!
To the girl with the golden hair;
To her with the black;
And never slack
Till the red has a handsome share!
A health to—The sort don't mind.
Since your wine is of various kind,
Toast each, as they pass,
In a separate glass!
Remembering Love is blind.
Since your wine is of various kind,
Toast each, as they pass,
In a separate glass!
Remembering Love is blind.
213
ADVICE TO A MAIDEN
Wilt thou yield because he presses?
Easily earn'd is quickly spent.
Bind him, Maiden! with thy tresses!
Hasten not event!
Easily earn'd is quickly spent.
Bind him, Maiden! with thy tresses!
Hasten not event!
Careless who too soon possesses:
Lo, he came and went.
Hold thy falcon in his jesses,
For a while content!
Lo, he came and went.
Hold thy falcon in his jesses,
For a while content!
But she said—“The giver blesses:
Love is given, not lent.”
And I thought her fond caresses
Not improvident.
Love is given, not lent.”
And I thought her fond caresses
Not improvident.
215
DROUGHT
The wind waves over the grass:
Will it bring the rain?
I know not. Sad heart! alas!
Tears will not ease thy pain.
Will it bring the rain?
I know not. Sad heart! alas!
Tears will not ease thy pain.
We are wanting the rain for the seeds
Lying hard in the earth;
And our hopes have come up as weeds
For the harvest of dearth.
Lying hard in the earth;
And our hopes have come up as weeds
For the harvest of dearth.
217
THE IDEAL
Never for what She is
Man loves, unknown her kind.
And woman's love, like his,
Is also blind.
Each looks, but neither sees;
Hidden from both the Real:
And all Love's ecstasies
Adore the Ideal.
Man loves, unknown her kind.
And woman's love, like his,
Is also blind.
Each looks, but neither sees;
Hidden from both the Real:
And all Love's ecstasies
Adore the Ideal.
Wherefore, our wit so scant,
Love we? Alas the hour!
Ask why the full-grown plant
Puts forth the flower!
Track o'er the pathless seas
The wild birds' way,
And yet Love's mysteries
Thou shalt not say.
Love we? Alas the hour!
Ask why the full-grown plant
Puts forth the flower!
Track o'er the pathless seas
The wild birds' way,
And yet Love's mysteries
Thou shalt not say.
218
Seekers of what is not,
The prize each one would win
Is Beauty without spot
And Truth within.
Be glad if Hope can seize
Some image of the Real,
And calm sweet memories
Still hold the Ideal!
The prize each one would win
Is Beauty without spot
And Truth within.
Be glad if Hope can seize
Some image of the Real,
And calm sweet memories
Still hold the Ideal!
THE COUNTERFEIT
If I could fashion Thee in stone,
Fair as thyself, Belovèd One!
Even Phidias were content to see
The world's most beauteous effigy;
And I with gazing on the stone
Should wish myself Pygmalion.
Fair as thyself, Belovèd One!
Even Phidias were content to see
The world's most beauteous effigy;
And I with gazing on the stone
Should wish myself Pygmalion.
Could I upon the canvas paint
Thy likeness, my love's worshipt Saint!
To Raffaele's dreams a grace I'd lend,
And with great Titian contend;
All lesser painters should despair
To express a face so more than fair.
Thy likeness, my love's worshipt Saint!
To Raffaele's dreams a grace I'd lend,
And with great Titian contend;
All lesser painters should despair
To express a face so more than fair.
O might I borrow Sidney's quill,
Or Jonson's rare poetic skill,
And trace thy loveliness of mind
In words of heart, till thine inclined
To thank the poet at thy feet,—
What song could be so honey-sweet?
Or Jonson's rare poetic skill,
219
In words of heart, till thine inclined
To thank the poet at thy feet,—
What song could be so honey-sweet?
But in thy gloriousness of face,
And in thy form's unstudied grace,
I find such charms I must despair
To fashion thy resemblance fair;
And sculpture, painting, poesy,
Are weak for counterfeiting Thee.
And in thy form's unstudied grace,
I find such charms I must despair
To fashion thy resemblance fair;
And sculpture, painting, poesy,
Are weak for counterfeiting Thee.
LOVING FAITH
Say the worst! Ere all is said
Love hath fully answerèd.
Defamation still may say
And Detraction hold her way;
All is said, and Love yet smiles:
Loving faith no falsehood files.
Love hath fully answerèd.
Defamation still may say
And Detraction hold her way;
All is said, and Love yet smiles:
Loving faith no falsehood files.
Yet, were slander true as troth,
Censure likely as now loath,
Or if—Peace! the loving still
Love, as Love for ever will.
All is done: Love only smiles.
Loving faith no doubt defiles.
Censure likely as now loath,
Or if—Peace! the loving still
Love, as Love for ever will.
All is done: Love only smiles.
Loving faith no doubt defiles.
222
AIME MOI
Aimez moi, je vous en prie!
Never a word she understood:
But her eyes told me she would,
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
Never a word she understood:
But her eyes told me she would,
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
Aimez moi, je vous en prie!
Not a word could she understand,
But the pressure of her hand
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
Not a word could she understand,
But the pressure of her hand
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
Aimè moi, and je t'en prie!
Never a word her lips pass'd by:
Sweeter kisses gave reply,
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
Never a word her lips pass'd by:
Sweeter kisses gave reply,
Said—Je t' aime, mon bel ami!
223
FOR LOVE'S SAKE
I would I were a fly on my Love's cheek, Or flea
On her white bosom, or poor humble bee
To sting her lip when I would honey seek:
Since flies or fleas may come my Mistress nigh,
All happier than I.
On her white bosom, or poor humble bee
To sting her lip when I would honey seek:
Since flies or fleas may come my Mistress nigh,
All happier than I.
O Love! transform me. No shape were amiss To take.
Her four-legg'd favourite, centipede, or snake,
I'd be if She my prettiness would kiss,
And fondle me: so I might crawl beside
This most dear Thing of Pride.
Her four-legg'd favourite, centipede, or snake,
I'd be if She my prettiness would kiss,
And fondle me: so I might crawl beside
This most dear Thing of Pride.
Change me to anything that She can love! A toad:
The jewel in my head I would unload;
Some happier day She might the gift approve.
Or make me (bully Jove! Love's memory jog,)
A beautiful bull-frog!
The jewel in my head I would unload;
Some happier day She might the gift approve.
Or make me (bully Jove! Love's memory jog,)
A beautiful bull-frog!
224
THRENODY
Bring thy saddest tears, O Earth!
Never canst thou have
Such great Worth
Thy grief to crave.
Pour from all thy crystal springs
Full sorrowings,
Nor mind the after dearth!
Never canst thou have
Such great Worth
Thy grief to crave.
Pour from all thy crystal springs
Full sorrowings,
Nor mind the after dearth!
Strew on Her, O Trees! your leaves;
Flowers, Blossoms! fade.
Winter reaves
And clouds must shade
Your joys in Summer's jocund time,
Since in her prime
Death binds Her in his sheaves.
Flowers, Blossoms! fade.
Winter reaves
And clouds must shade
Your joys in Summer's jocund time,
Since in her prime
Death binds Her in his sheaves.
Springs, and Groves, all things of Earth!
Mourn since She is gone!
Life's great mirth
Is changed to moan;
Hope, when She was laid in tomb,
Dared not to bloom:
So Loss defeated Worth.
Mourn since She is gone!
Life's great mirth
Is changed to moan;
Hope, when She was laid in tomb,
Dared not to bloom:
So Loss defeated Worth.
225
FORTUNA
How many wouldst thou love? fair Maid!
Sad was my heart, God wot:
Thou makèst Love himself afraid,
And yet who loves thee not?
Sad was my heart, God wot:
Thou makèst Love himself afraid,
And yet who loves thee not?
“I love, I love thee!” Such words said,
Glad was my heart, God wot:
Upon my heart thy fair head laid.
And yet thou lovedst me not.
Glad was my heart, God wot:
Upon my heart thy fair head laid.
And yet thou lovedst me not.
She loved, she said; and left me so:
Sad was my heart, God wot.
Thy love of change so many know,
And yet who loves thee not?
Sad was my heart, God wot.
Thy love of change so many know,
And yet who loves thee not?
Once leaving me thou didst look back
(Glad was my heart, God wot,)
As bidding me to keep thy track:
And yet thou lovedst me not.
(Glad was my heart, God wot,)
As bidding me to keep thy track:
And yet thou lovedst me not.
O Love, whom Love hath made so fair!
Sad is my heart, God wot:
Thou leavest thy lovers to despair.
And yet who loves thee not?
Sad is my heart, God wot:
Thou leavest thy lovers to despair.
And yet who loves thee not?
231
SAPPHIC
I love him, and he loves me not: alas
That this should be!
How should a maiden come to such a pass,
A maiden free?
Woe's me!
That this should be!
How should a maiden come to such a pass,
A maiden free?
Woe's me!
Free once as wind: but were I as the wind,
To him I'd flee,
Breathe my love sighingly, and loving bind
The now love-free.
Woe's me!
To him I'd flee,
Breathe my love sighingly, and loving bind
The now love-free.
Woe's me!
I love him and he loves me not. O Grief!
My helper be;
Wind! bear me unto him, as a dead leaf
Is borne by thee.
Woe's me!
My helper be;
Wind! bear me unto him, as a dead leaf
Is borne by thee.
Woe's me!
234
SLEEP
Be still! She sleeps.
Thy whitest smile, O Moon!
(As once Endymion)
In pallor steeps
Her fair face while she sleeps.
Thy whitest smile, O Moon!
(As once Endymion)
In pallor steeps
Her fair face while she sleeps.
Be still! She sleeps.
No leaf let fall, May-bloom!
But sweet perfume,
Where Silence creeps
To watch her as she sleeps.
No leaf let fall, May-bloom!
But sweet perfume,
235
To watch her as she sleeps.
Be hush'd! She sleeps.
O tender-winged Moth!
Have care, as loath
To assail the keeps
Where she still smiling sleeps.
O tender-winged Moth!
Have care, as loath
To assail the keeps
Where she still smiling sleeps.
238
THE LAST TOAST
Fling your hearts in the bowl till the liquor runs o'er!
We have drunk many healths, there remaineth one more:
We have named the Belovèd, the Fond and the Fair;—
One toast yet invites us while time is to spare.
We have drunk many healths, there remaineth one more:
We have named the Belovèd, the Fond and the Fair;—
One toast yet invites us while time is to spare.
Fling your hearts in the bowl, for the red wine runs low;
And my toast must be had ere one man of us go.
We have honour'd the Absent, and thought of the Dead
In the silence of love when no tear may be shed.
And my toast must be had ere one man of us go.
We have honour'd the Absent, and thought of the Dead
In the silence of love when no tear may be shed.
Fling your hearts in again! there's enough for a health:
To the Fair whom we name not but worship by stealth?
To the Fair long since loved? We remember'd them all.—
To the “Unfair,” at leisure, or foul you befall!
To the Fair whom we name not but worship by stealth?
To the Fair long since loved? We remember'd them all.—
To the “Unfair,” at leisure, or foul you befall!
Full glasses to Her whom Love seems to forget,
Whom Joy, narrow-minded, asks not to his set,
To her the unworship'd, unwed, and unwoo'd,
The Childless, the Martyr to life-solitude!
239
To her the unworship'd, unwed, and unwoo'd,
The Childless, the Martyr to life-solitude!
Alone,—ay, heart-lonely! Unlovely? Alas!
Love himself the Most Lovely hath brought to this pass.
Drink! drink! Who'll refuse, but to quit him of wrong;
Or grudge her the Poet's poor solace of song?
Love himself the Most Lovely hath brought to this pass.
Drink! drink! Who'll refuse, but to quit him of wrong;
Or grudge her the Poet's poor solace of song?
241
DETUR PULCHRIORI
My Lady's eyes have heaven's hue,
Serenely bright and blue.
My Love's are black as deepest night
By lightning's light.
Serenely bright and blue.
My Love's are black as deepest night
By lightning's light.
My Lady's face, like blushing rose,
With swift emotion glows.
And mine is pale, as marble fair,
With feeling rare.
With swift emotion glows.
And mine is pale, as marble fair,
With feeling rare.
Her hair is golden as the round
On royal foreheads bound.
Her's is more dark than ebon twine
Of Proserpine.
On royal foreheads bound.
Her's is more dark than ebon twine
Of Proserpine.
As gently-carriaged as the dove
Of Venus, She I love.
And She is goddess-like in mien
As Jove's great Queen.
Of Venus, She I love.
And She is goddess-like in mien
As Jove's great Queen.
So strove they; then unto a third
The high dispute referr'd:
He on his tablets this set down—
My girl is brown.
The high dispute referr'd:
He on his tablets this set down—
My girl is brown.
243
LAIS
For ever stumbling to a fall,
And still afraid to look behind,
Infirm of will, but wilful, all
Thy native gifts have sown the wind.
And still afraid to look behind,
Infirm of will, but wilful, all
Thy native gifts have sown the wind.
We found thy beauty but a lure,
Thy ready tongue a treacherous bait.
Thy love a fancy—to endure
So long as fickleness could wait.
Thy ready tongue a treacherous bait.
Thy love a fancy—to endure
So long as fickleness could wait.
High-placed as fair, with wit and sense,
Love was thine own and honour lent:
Hadst thou escaped incontinence,
Thy happier life had known content.
Love was thine own and honour lent:
Hadst thou escaped incontinence,
Thy happier life had known content.
LINGERING
Shall I for a woman pine
When she cares not to be mine?
Or, if she'll not have me her's,
Come with the other servitors?
Eager Love would droop and die,
Waiting for so slow reply.
When she cares not to be mine?
Or, if she'll not have me her's,
Come with the other servitors?
244
Waiting for so slow reply.
I would be the first to woo,
But would have her ready too:
If she will not understand
Asking pressure of the hand,
Or the swift prayer of an eye,
Dullness take her! what care I?
But would have her ready too:
If she will not understand
Asking pressure of the hand,
Or the swift prayer of an eye,
Dullness take her! what care I?
Nay! and yet she must not haste:
Hurried having is disgraced.
But, as she sees me inclined,
Let her only know her mind,
To be prompt with her reply!
Doubtful love is apt to die.
Hurried having is disgraced.
But, as she sees me inclined,
Let her only know her mind,
To be prompt with her reply!
Doubtful love is apt to die.
245
PARIS JUSTIFIED
What else had Paris but to choose
The Queen of Beauty for his prize?
What else when he had eyes to use,
And sense to justify his eyes?
The Queen of Beauty for his prize?
What else when he had eyes to use,
And sense to justify his eyes?
Poor Wisdom, knowing not of love
Or wish to propagate her kind,
Such maidenhood, who may, approve!
I own myself of Paris' mind.
Or wish to propagate her kind,
Such maidenhood, who may, approve!
I own myself of Paris' mind.
And Power that had no power to make
A silly shepherd give to her
The apple, even for love's sake,—
Such Power, who will, to Love prefer!
A silly shepherd give to her
The apple, even for love's sake,—
Such Power, who will, to Love prefer!
So, it meseemeth, Paris had
Good cause for Wit to allow his choice,
For Power to spare the happy lad
Whom only Beauty could rejoice.
Good cause for Wit to allow his choice,
For Power to spare the happy lad
Whom only Beauty could rejoice.
246
HOMEWARD
Swift-winged wind, wild bird of the waste ocean!
Carry my message home:
Tell her I come;
Whisper unto her of my life's devotion.
Carry my message home:
Tell her I come;
Whisper unto her of my life's devotion.
Stars that behold us both for all this distance
Between me and my home:
Tell her I come;
Assure her of my faith and love's persistence.
Between me and my home:
Tell her I come;
Assure her of my faith and love's persistence.
Fore-reaching Thought! thyself o'erstep the billow;
Bear thine own message home.
I come, I come.
Even now, Dear Love! my glad heart is thy pillow.
Bear thine own message home.
I come, I come.
Even now, Dear Love! my glad heart is thy pillow.
249
MISTRESS JANE
Hard words, Mistress Jane!
For a lover, “despise and disdain.”
But there's that in your eyes
Bids me ask you again,
Mistress Jane!
For a lover, “despise and disdain.”
But there's that in your eyes
Bids me ask you again,
Mistress Jane!
I shall ask you “in vain”;
And may “leave” you. I wiser remain,
For that look in your eyes
Bids me stay, and so gain
My own Jane.
And may “leave” you. I wiser remain,
For that look in your eyes
Bids me stay, and so gain
My own Jane.
250
THE TRESPASS
Out and alas
For this my trespass!
I kiss'd her when I should not:
Not that she would not.
By my troth 'twas a likely lass.
For this my trespass!
I kiss'd her when I should not:
Not that she would not.
By my troth 'twas a likely lass.
Out and alas!—
Herein my trespass:
I would have love too quickly.
She not unlikely:
By my troth, so it came to pass.
Herein my trespass:
I would have love too quickly.
She not unlikely:
By my troth, so it came to pass.
Out and alas!—
For so brief trespass
She turns from me her sunlight.
Ne'ertheless I have done right.
By my troth, 'twas a likely lass.
For so brief trespass
She turns from me her sunlight.
Ne'ertheless I have done right.
By my troth, 'twas a likely lass.
252
EPICUREAN
In Childhood's unsuspicious hours
The fairies crown'd my head with flowers.
The fairies crown'd my head with flowers.
Youth came: I lay at Beauty's feet;
She smiled and said my song was sweet.
She smiled and said my song was sweet.
Then Age and, Love no longer mine,
My brows I shaded with the Vine.
My brows I shaded with the Vine.
With flowers and love and wine and song;
O Death! life hath not been too long.
O Death! life hath not been too long.
255
THE SINGER'S APOLOGY
Mere waste of wit these poor love-rimes,
These tinklings fit to tickle ears
Of silly boys and girls in times
Of play: offence to serious years!
These tinklings fit to tickle ears
Of silly boys and girls in times
Of play: offence to serious years!
Yet so did Shakspere spend his hours,
And Sidney judged love-lore no shame,
And Jonson grudged not noblest powers:
If not their praise, I share their blame.
And Sidney judged love-lore no shame,
And Jonson grudged not noblest powers:
If not their praise, I share their blame.
Nor do I of mere idlesse sing:
Albeit without didactic bent,
My simple notes perchance may bring
Some lesson of a wise content.
Albeit without didactic bent,
My simple notes perchance may bring
Some lesson of a wise content.
Rebuke the lark “at heaven's gate”!
Reprove the foolish nightingale!
While these may sing I will not wait,
Though wisdom frown or critics rail.
Reprove the foolish nightingale!
While these may sing I will not wait,
Though wisdom frown or critics rail.
Love-Lore (1895) | ||