 | English Roses |  |
SILVER AND GOLD.
I madly loved a maiden, and beautiful was she
With every blessing laden that exquisite may be;
For I was simply human and loved her O too well,
And she a wondrous woman who drew me with a spell;
But vernal laughed her graces and winter left me old,
My head had silver traces, her heart was unmixed gold.
With every blessing laden that exquisite may be;
For I was simply human and loved her O too well,
And she a wondrous woman who drew me with a spell;
But vernal laughed her graces and winter left me old,
My head had silver traces, her heart was unmixed gold.
I offered her my plenty, my acres and my all,
Though unto sweet-and-twenty the grandest gifts looked small,
When the whole world seemed lying a plaything at her feet
And rosy hours a-flying were winged music sweet;
For I was so terrestrial and felt the mortal tie,
And she the pure celestial who could not ever die.
Though unto sweet-and-twenty the grandest gifts looked small,
When the whole world seemed lying a plaything at her feet
And rosy hours a-flying were winged music sweet;
For I was so terrestrial and felt the mortal tie,
And she the pure celestial who could not ever die.
I did her service daily with joy and she knew who,
And honoured whims as gaily as faithful man might do;
Her road I paved with pleasure and let her rise on me
To loftier modes and measure while made more fair and free;
But in bright future's dwelling she counted not the past,
Which still was all my telling and shadows on me cast.
And honoured whims as gaily as faithful man might do;
Her road I paved with pleasure and let her rise on me
To loftier modes and measure while made more fair and free;
But in bright future's dwelling she counted not the past,
Which still was all my telling and shadows on me cast.
I wooed her long and humbly with every homage due,
With open speech and dumbly in ministrations true;
I wearied not in kindness, I wanted not in speed,
If she would cheer my blindness and satisfy my need;
But hers the dewy petal and mine the sere leaf cold,
And I was silver metal and she was nought but gold.
With open speech and dumbly in ministrations true;
I wearied not in kindness, I wanted not in speed,
If she would cheer my blindness and satisfy my need;
But hers the dewy petal and mine the sere leaf cold,
And I was silver metal and she was nought but gold.
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