Dramatic Scenes With Other Poems, Now First Printed. By Barry Cornwall [i.e. Bryan Waller Procter]. Illustrated |
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 | Dramatic Scenes |  |
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AN ACQUAINTANCE.
I do not love you—I do not hate:
A something, 'tween hate and love, is thine.
I have given you—such as it is—a piece,
A little piece, of this heart of mine:
A something, 'tween hate and love, is thine.
I have given you—such as it is—a piece,
A little piece, of this heart of mine:
A morsel of gold,—but massed and mixed
With silver and iron, and clay beside;
It softens your own heart not a jot;
It pampers—a little, perhaps,—your pride.
With silver and iron, and clay beside;
It softens your own heart not a jot;
It pampers—a little, perhaps,—your pride.
You proffer me, now and then, words so kind!
Yet I think, for a purpose, you'd touch—just touch
My throat with your dagger,—then heal the gash;
Not glad—scarce sorry—you'd hurt me much.
Yet I think, for a purpose, you'd touch—just touch
My throat with your dagger,—then heal the gash;
Not glad—scarce sorry—you'd hurt me much.
You would strike me to death, when the ill blood flies
To your brain, and the riotous pulse begins
To beat; but that I have a Secret lies
Down in the dark, amidst all my sins;
To your brain, and the riotous pulse begins
To beat; but that I have a Secret lies
Down in the dark, amidst all my sins;
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And with This I have always a master's power,
To keep within bounds your treacherous will;
And with this I shall conquer your evil hour,
And tame your heart,—till your heart be still.
To keep within bounds your treacherous will;
And with this I shall conquer your evil hour,
And tame your heart,—till your heart be still.
Therefore, and because I must mix with men
Who are scarcely my friends (for a friend is rare),
I shall venture within your circle again,
And be seen with you, taking the noon-day air.
Who are scarcely my friends (for a friend is rare),
I shall venture within your circle again,
And be seen with you, taking the noon-day air.
Thus far; no farther. I give my love
Where only my heart points out the man;
Then I give, as I give to my God above,
Love, intellect, friendship,—all I can.
Where only my heart points out the man;
Then I give, as I give to my God above,
Love, intellect, friendship,—all I can.
No stint; no subterfuge. Time and thought,
Heart, fortune,—a river that knows no end,
All (gold from the mine and gold that's wrought,)
Belong to the man that I call my friend.
Heart, fortune,—a river that knows no end,
All (gold from the mine and gold that's wrought,)
Belong to the man that I call my friend.
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