The new minnesinger and other poems By Arran Leigh [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
 |
 |
LOVES NEW AND OLD.
|
|
 | The new minnesinger and other poems |  |
33
LOVES NEW AND OLD.
Larch-blooms and violets.
If loving nature us allow
To ask a springtide sign,
Thy tiny cresset lamps, I trow,
Bright shining larch, are mine!
To ask a springtide sign,
Thy tiny cresset lamps, I trow,
Bright shining larch, are mine!
I cannot feel the sun is near,
Nor gladden, till I see
The lustre on thy boughs, thou dear,
Bold-hearted, highland tree!
Nor gladden, till I see
The lustre on thy boughs, thou dear,
Bold-hearted, highland tree!
How fearless thou dost round thee fling
Thy tender sprays! I ween
The very joyaunce of the spring
Lurks in thy laughing green!
Thy tender sprays! I ween
The very joyaunce of the spring
Lurks in thy laughing green!
34
A child I lov'd thee for thy hue,
Tir'd of the winter glooms,
But, city-nurtur'd, never knew
The glory of thy blooms.
Tir'd of the winter glooms,
But, city-nurtur'd, never knew
The glory of thy blooms.
This happy spring, in golden stealth
Of April gleams, didst thou
Reveal the unsuspected wealth
Hung on each glowing bough.
Of April gleams, didst thou
Reveal the unsuspected wealth
Hung on each glowing bough.
I caught the flash of jewell'd light,
I glanced across the stems,
Crown'd to thy turret's topmost height
With tiers of living gems.
I glanced across the stems,
Crown'd to thy turret's topmost height
With tiers of living gems.
O joy of a fresh found delight
In woodland or in field,
That far in seasons out of sight
Its sweet return will yield!
In woodland or in field,
That far in seasons out of sight
Its sweet return will yield!
Not mine to store, nor mine to be
With miser's fear afraid;
To endless happy springs for me
A treasure was uplaid.
With miser's fear afraid;
To endless happy springs for me
A treasure was uplaid.
35
And this new bliss my spirit greets
With glad discovering claim;
Unlike those blind mysterious sweets
That with my childhood came.
With glad discovering claim;
Unlike those blind mysterious sweets
That with my childhood came.
The first blue violets! with their scent
What sudden memories spring;
They bring to me that strange content
Born of remembering.
What sudden memories spring;
They bring to me that strange content
Born of remembering.
To me of other springs they speak,
Of friends that I have known;
Though hand in hand I used to seek
What now I seek alone;
Of friends that I have known;
Though hand in hand I used to seek
What now I seek alone;
I find them in their hiding-place
With a recovered glee;
I love them as I love the face
That I am used to see.
With a recovered glee;
I love them as I love the face
That I am used to see.
I learnt them, like my mother's eyes,
Their sweetness ere their name;
But these a very love surprise
Across my vision came.
Their sweetness ere their name;
But these a very love surprise
Across my vision came.
36
And which the sweeter? to be fed
From springs we cannot see,
Or be ourselves the fountain head
Of our own bliss to be?
From springs we cannot see,
Or be ourselves the fountain head
Of our own bliss to be?
The loves we childish drink, nor heed
From whence the fountains fill;
The loves whose broadest margins lead
Back to the tiny rill?
From whence the fountains fill;
The loves whose broadest margins lead
Back to the tiny rill?
| The new minnesinger and other poems | |