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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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I. FIRST SIGHT.

When first we met the nether world was white
And on the steel-blue ice before her bower
I skated in the sunrise for an hour,
Till all the grey horizon, gulphed in light,
Was red against the bare boughs black as night;
Then suddenly her sweet face like a flower,
Enclosed in sables from the frost's dim power,
Shone at her casement, and flushed burning bright
When first we met!
My skating being done, I loitered home,
And sought that day to lose her face again;
But Love was weaving in his golden loom
My story up with hers, and all in vain
I strove to loose the threads he spun amain
When first we met.
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