'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||
IN ANGELLO CUM LIBELLO.
There my little book and I,
There we lay in shelter,
Roses made our scarlet sky,
Far from working welter;
Oh, the pretty book, it lay
Lightly on my bosom,
Bound in sweetest silk, and gay
As the rose's blossom;
Tenderly the lines I read
And between, in quiet
Bending low my loving head
To the dainty diet;
I had known the volume well,
Learned the fairy pages
Speaking in one master spell
Joys of all the ages;
Reverently I each grace
Marked, as was my duty,
Finding in each silent space
Some new secret beauty;
Thus I clasped those thrilling charms,—
In angello,
Cum libello,
Though the world might brawl and bellow—
In my arms.
There we lay in shelter,
Roses made our scarlet sky,
Far from working welter;
Oh, the pretty book, it lay
Lightly on my bosom,
771
As the rose's blossom;
Tenderly the lines I read
And between, in quiet
Bending low my loving head
To the dainty diet;
I had known the volume well,
Learned the fairy pages
Speaking in one master spell
Joys of all the ages;
Reverently I each grace
Marked, as was my duty,
Finding in each silent space
Some new secret beauty;
Thus I clasped those thrilling charms,—
In angello,
Cum libello,
Though the world might brawl and bellow—
In my arms.
There my little book and I
Bathed in sweet blue weather,
As the busy wind went by
Laughing to the heather;
Every leaf I knew by heart,
In my memory printed,
Lines that miracles of art
Flashed, and lines but hinted;
Never yet from classic press
Did a volume issue.
Clothed in such a dazzling dress,
Woven of tender tissue;
Never was a truer type
Set in living letters,
One with all enchantments ripe,
Forging welcome fetters;
Never, framed to soothe and serve
Passion's ardent story,
Fetched a fairer brighter curve
Characters of glory;
Thus I weighed each subtle tone,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
Jealous as the worst Othello,
And alone.
Bathed in sweet blue weather,
As the busy wind went by
Laughing to the heather;
Every leaf I knew by heart,
In my memory printed,
Lines that miracles of art
Flashed, and lines but hinted;
Never yet from classic press
Did a volume issue.
Clothed in such a dazzling dress,
Woven of tender tissue;
Never was a truer type
Set in living letters,
One with all enchantments ripe,
Forging welcome fetters;
Never, framed to soothe and serve
Passion's ardent story,
Fetched a fairer brighter curve
Characters of glory;
Thus I weighed each subtle tone,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
Jealous as the worst Othello,
And alone.
There my little book and I
With each other nestled,
Fastened with the golden tie
For which love had wrestled;
Holding it with fervent hand,
Treasure of my finding
In the world of fairy-land,
Oft I praised the binding;
Glow of darling white and pink,
Wealth of wondrous cover,
Each alluring look and link
Meant to chain a lover;
Breast that only to my gaze
Half revealed the rapture,
All removed, when my amaze
Held it as a capture;
Words that would invite a kiss,
With melodious sentence,
And to make more perfect bliss
Then required repentance;
Wit I drank from dewy lips,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
As his port a college fellow,
Softly sips.
With each other nestled,
772
For which love had wrestled;
Holding it with fervent hand,
Treasure of my finding
In the world of fairy-land,
Oft I praised the binding;
Glow of darling white and pink,
Wealth of wondrous cover,
Each alluring look and link
Meant to chain a lover;
Breast that only to my gaze
Half revealed the rapture,
All removed, when my amaze
Held it as a capture;
Words that would invite a kiss,
With melodious sentence,
And to make more perfect bliss
Then required repentance;
Wit I drank from dewy lips,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
As his port a college fellow,
Softly sips.
There my little book and I
Plunged in varied vision,
While all Heaven seemed all to lie
Close, with breath Elysian;
Dreamily I found therein
Still diviner graces,
Gifts that had their origin
But in my embraces;
Gleamed the text with studies strange,
Readings bright and clever,
Mountain meanings rose, to range
On and on for ever;
Rock and river, earth and sky,
Lights in starry station,
Angels and sweet devilry,
Wrought one revelation;
Never were in wisest books
So bewitching fancies,
As in that dear volume's looks,
Big with young romances;
Thus I lay in languor bound,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
While the evening, mild and mellow,
Wrapt us round.
Plunged in varied vision,
While all Heaven seemed all to lie
Close, with breath Elysian;
Dreamily I found therein
Still diviner graces,
Gifts that had their origin
But in my embraces;
Gleamed the text with studies strange,
Readings bright and clever,
Mountain meanings rose, to range
On and on for ever;
Rock and river, earth and sky,
Lights in starry station,
Angels and sweet devilry,
Wrought one revelation;
Never were in wisest books
So bewitching fancies,
As in that dear volume's looks,
Big with young romances;
Thus I lay in languor bound,—
In angello,
Cum libello—
While the evening, mild and mellow,
Wrapt us round.
'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||