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Songs and Poems from 1819 to 1879

By J. R. Planché
Planché, J. R. (1796-1880)

collapse sectionI. 
PART I.
  
STANZAS TO A BROKEN LUTE.
  
SONG
  
TO------
  
TO------
  
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
  
TO------
  
TO------, WITH A RING.
  
TO------
  
TO THOMAS MOORE, ESQ.
  
TO------
  
SONG.
  
TO------
  
PARTING.
  
SCOTCH MELODY.
  
VENETIAN MELODY.
  
FRENCH MELODY.
  
LINES ON PASSING THROUGH FRANCE.
  
TO------
  
ELLEN.
  
SILENTLY.
  
VULCAN AND HYMEN.
  
IRISH MELODY. No. 1.
  
IRISH MELODY. No. 2.
  
IRISH MELODY. No. 3.
  
IRISH MELODY. No. 4.
  
IRISH MELODY. No. 5.
  
TO------
  
ON THE DEATH OF MRS. ---
  
SONG.
  
RONDEAU.
  
OLD ENGLISH MELODY.
  
TO J--- H---, ESQ., ON HIS MARRIAGE.
  
A SONG.
  
A SONG.
  
TO MY WIFE AFTER AN ILLNESS.
  
I LOVE THEE.
  
I'M IN LOVE.
  
A SONG
  
“THERE WAS A TIME.”
  
A SONG.
  
A SONG.
  
A SONG.
  
TO LIZZIE.
  
OH! NOT BY THE RIVER.
  
FROM THE FRENCH.
  
FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF CACCEORUS.
  
ASK YE WHERE MY HOME?
  
GIOVANNA.
  
SOUVENIR OF MOUNT EDGECUMBE.
  
ON HEARING A LADY SING “LOVE IS PASSING.”
  
AN ACROSTIC.
  
WEARY.
  
A SONG.
  
ACROSTIC
  
ON LEAVING PENCARROW.
  
A PROLOGUE.
  
AN EXCHANGE.
  
AN ANSWER.
  
TO MY WIFE.
  
“POVERTY PARTS GOOD COMPANY.”
  
THE FLOWERS OF TOWTON FIELD.
  
PROLOGUE TO THE “FORTY THIEVES.”
  
PROLOGUE TO “VALENTINE AND ORSON.”
  
SONG FROM “BABIL AND BIJOU.”
  
LOVE'S GIFTS.
  
WOMAN.
  
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.
  
“WITH WOMAN AS WITH OTHER GAME.”
  
“WHEREFORE NOT BEING SAD.”
  
OH! YE LORDS OF THE CREATION!
  
LINES ON THE DEATH OF CARL MARIA VON WEBER.
collapse sectionII. 
PART II.
  
SOME OLD READINGS OF OLD NURSERY RHYMES.
  
TO SYDNEY HALL, ESQ.
  
A CHRISTMAS GREETING.
  
“THE MAGPIE” TO “THE MAID.”
  
POLLY CONNOR
  
A WORD IN SEASON.
  
A SONG
  
UNSUPPORTED SUPPORTERS.
  
A LITERARY SQUABBLE.
  
JOHN BROWN'S ANSWER
  
MADAME VESTRIS'S ANSWER TO THE ALPHABET.
  
INTRODUCTION TO “MIRTH.”
  
SELF-EVIDENT.
  
NOTES OF AN OLD MOCKING-BIRD.
  
THE STORY OF ARIADNE.

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55

I LOVE THEE.

I love thee! I love thee! I've rushed from thy bower
To murmur my secret beside the lone sea!
No mortal is near me!
The waves only hear me!
I whisper to them what I dare not to thee!
Oh rapture! to roam the wild beach at this hour,
And pour forth unchecked all my deep love for thee!
I love thee! I love thee! But ne'er shall thou dream it;
'Tis folly! 'tis madness! Thou couldst not love me.
Then why by revealing
My heart's treasured feeling,
The torture incur of one cold glance from thee?
Ah no! let me doat on in silence, and dream it
Atones for my crime, if 'tis crime to love thee!
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