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On Viol and Flute

By Edmund W. Gosse
Gosse, Edmund (1849-1928)
  
[dedication]
  
[dedication]
  
[epigraph]

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[section]
  
AD AUDITOREM.
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ALLEGRO.
  
SUNRISE BY THE SEA.
  
THE ALMOND TREE.
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FORTUNATE LOVE.
 I. 
I. FIRST SIGHT.
 II. 
II. ELATION.
 III. 
III. IN CHURCH-TIME.
 IV. 
IV. DEJECTION AND DELAY.
 V. 
V. EXPECTATION.
 VI. 
VI. IN THE GRASS.
 VII. 
VII. RESERVATION.
 VIII. 
VIII. BY THE WELL.
 IX. 
IX. MAY-DAY.
 X. 
X. MISTRUST.
 XI. 
XI. EAVESDROPPING.
 XII. 
XII. A GARDEN-PIECE.
 XIII. 
XIII. CONFIDENT LOVE.
 XIV. 
XIV. LOVERS' QUARREL.
 XV. 
XV. RECONCILIATION.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE FEAR OF DEATH.
 XVII. 
XVII. EXPERIENCE.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. THE EXCHANGE.
 XIX. 
XIX. UNDER THE APPLE-TREE.
 XX. 
XX. EPITHALAMIUM
  
FLOWER OF THE MARIGOLD.
  
SUNSHINE BEFORE SUNRISE.
  
LYING IN THE GRASS.
  
PARADISE.
  
ELSINORE.
  
IN THE BAY.
  
FROM THE NORWEGIAN OF IBSEN.
  
LÜBECK.
  
MOORLAND.
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ANDANTE.
  
[O wind of Provence, subtle wind that blows]
  
ENCOMIUM MORTIS.
  
REVOLT.
  
INITIUM AMORIS.
  
OLD AND NEW.
  
A FAREWELL.
  
PERFUME.
  
THE RENAISSANCE.
  
SONG.
  
GUENEVERE.
  
ON A LUTE FOUND IN A SARCOPHAGUS.
  
THE PARADISE OF A WEARIED SOUL.
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SONNETS FROM THE ITALIAN OF FRANCESCO REDI.
 I. 
I. PROEM.
 II. 
II. THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY LOVE.
 III. 
III. CAPTIVITY.
 IV. 
IV. HEAVENLY LOVE.
 V. 
V. THE CREATION OF MY LADY.
 VI. 
VI. GRIEF.
 VII. 
VII. THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES.
 VIII. 
VIII. LOVE THE MUSICIAN.
 IX. 
IX. THE END OF EARTHLY LOVE.
 X. 
X. REPENTANCE.
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ADAGIO.
  
[The saint of old who saw the witch-fire shine]
  
THE APOTHEOSIS OF ST. DOROTHY.
  
HOLY THURSDAY.
  
SPILLENDE GENIER.
  
ILLICET.
  
OLD TREES.
  
TO HENRIK IBSEN IN DRESDEN.
  
D. G. R.
  
FORGOTTEN.
  
SPIRITUAL DAWN.
  
FOR THE NEW YEAR.
  
1870—71.
  
THE MANDRAKES.
  
AD AUDITOREM.

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26

VIII. BY THE WELL.

Hot hands that yearn to touch her flower-like face,
With fingers spread, I set you like a weir
To stem this ice-cold stream in its career,—
And chill your pulses there a little space;
Brown hands, what right have you to claim the grace
To touch her head so infinitely dear?
Learn courteously to wait and to revere,
Lest haply ye be found in sorry case,
Hot hands that yearn!
But if ye bring her flowers at my behest,
And hold her crystal water from the well,
And bend a bough for shade when she will rest,
And if she find you fain and teachable,
That flower-like face, perchance, ah! who can tell?
In your embrace may some sweet day be pressed,
Hot hands that yearn!
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