Love

Joy fills my eyes, remembering your hair, with tears,
        And these tears roll and shine;
Into my thoughts are woven a dark night with raindrops
        And the rolling and shining of love songs.

From the Hindustani of Mir Taqui (eighteenth century).

Sogna il guerriér le schiere,
    Le sel ve il cacciatór;
    E sogna il pescatór;
    Le reti, e l' amo.        Metastatio.


Love knoweth every form of air,
    And every shape of earth,
And comes, unbidden, everywhere,
    Like thought's mysterious birth.
The moonlight sea and the sunset sky
    Are written with Love's words,
And you hear his voice unceasingly,
    Like song in the time of birds.

He peeps into the warrior's heart
    From the tip of a stooping plume,
And the serried spears, and the many men
    May not deny him room.
He'll come to his tent in the weary night,
    And be busy in his dream;
And he'll float to his eye in morning light
    Like a fay on a silver beam.

He hears the sound of the hu...

When on the lip the sigh delays,
    As if 'twould linger there for ever;
When eyes would give the world to gaze,
    Yet still look down and venture never;
When, tho' with fairest nymphs we rove,
    There's one we dream of more than any--
If all this is not real love,
    'Tis something wondrous like it, Fanny!

To think and ponder, when apart,
    On all we've got to say at meeting;
And yet when near, with heart to heart,
    Sit mute and listen to their beating:
To see but one bright object move,
    The only moon, where stars are many--
If all this is not downright love,
    I prithee say what is, my Fanny!

When Hope foretells the brightest, best,
    Tho' Reason on the darkest reckons;
When Passion drives us to the west,
...

I lately lived in quiet case,
    An' ne'er wish'd to marry, O!
But when I saw my Peggy's face,
    I felt a sad quandary, O!
Though wild as ony Athol deer,
    She has trepann'd me fairly, O!
Her cherry cheeks an' een sae clear
    Torment me late an' early O!
        O, love, love, love!
            Love is like a dizziness;
        It winna let a poor body
            Gang about his biziness!

To tell my feats this single week
    Wad mak a daft-like diary, O!
I drave my cart out ow'r a dike,
    My horses in a miry, O!
I wear my stockings white an' blue,
    My love's sae fierce an' fiery, O!
I drill the land that I should pleugh,
    An' pleugh the drills entirely, O!
        O, love, love, love! etc.

Ae morning, by the...

1.
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me - who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

2.
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream -
The Champak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart; -
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!

3.
Oh lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast; -
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.

Amor che 'ncende 'l cor d' ardente zelo.

LOVE AND JEALOUSY.


    'Tis Love's caprice to freeze the bosom now
With bolts of ice, with shafts of flame now burn;
And which his lighter pang, I scarce discern--
Or hope or fear, or whelming fire or snow.
In heat I shiver, and in cold I glow,
Now thrill'd with love, with jealousy now torn:
As if her thin robe by a rival worn,
Or veil, had screen'd him from my vengeful blow
But more 'tis mine to burn by night, by day;
And how I love the death by which I die,
Nor thought can grasp, nor tongue of bard can sing:
Not so my freezing fire--impartially
She shines to all; and who would speed his way
To that high beam, in vain expands his fluttering wing.

WRANGHAM.


    Love with h...

I had a love in soft south land,
    Beloved through April far in May;
He waited on my lightest breath,
    And never dared to say me nay.

He saddened if my cheer was sad,
    But gay he grew if I was gay;
We never differed on a hair,
    My yes his yes, my nay his nay.

The wedding hour was come, the aisles
    Were flushed with sun and flowers that day;
I pacing balanced in my thoughts:
    'It's quite too late to think of nay.'--

My bridegroom answered in his turn,
    Myself had almost answered 'yea:'
When through the flashing nave I heard
    A struggle and resounding 'nay.'

Bridemaids and bridegroom shrank in fear,
    But I stood high who stood at bay:
'And if I answer yea, fair Sir,
    What man art thou to bar wit...

Good Muse, rock me asleep
    With some sweet harmony:
The weary eye is not to keep
    Thy wary company.

Sweet Love, begone awhile,
    Thou knowest my heaviness:
Beauty is born but to beguile
    My heart of happiness.

See how my little flock,
    That loved to feed on high,
Do headlong tumble down the rock,
    And in the valley die.

The bushes and the trees
    That were so fresh and green,
Do all their dainty colour leese,
    And not a leaf is seen.

The blackbird and the thrush,
    That made the woods to ring,
With all the rest, are now at hush,
    And not a note they sing.

Sweet Philomel, the bird
    That hath the heavenly throat,
Doth now alas! not once afford
    Recording of a note.<...

I've watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue,
To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell;
For I was apt, a scholler like to proue,
Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.
Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun
At my first Lesson in thy sacred name:
My consonants the next when I had done,
Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.
My liquids then were liquid christall teares,
My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe;
My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires,
Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe:
    My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so,
    That I can read a story of my woe.

Some starlit garden grey with dew,
Some chamber flushed with wine and fire,
What matters where, so I and you
Are worthy our desire?

Behind, a past that scolds and jeers
For ungirt loin and lamp unlit;
In front the unmanageable years,
The trap upon the pit;

Think on the shame of dreams for deeds,
The scandal of unnatural strife,
The slur upon immortal needs,
The treason done to life:

Arise! no more a living lie
And with me quicken and control
A memory that shall magnify
The universal Soul.

If Heaven would hear my prayer,
    My dearest wish would be,
Thy sorrows not to share,
    But take them all on me;
If Heaven would hear my prayer.

I'd beg with prayers and sighs
    That never a tear might flow
From out thy lovely eyes,
    If Heaven might grant it so;
Mine be the tears and sighs.

No cloud thy brow should cover,
    But smiles each other chase
From lips to eyes all over
    Thy sweet and sunny face;
The clouds my heart should cover.

That all thy path be light
    Let darkness fall on me;
If all thy days be bright,
    Mine black as night could be.
My love would light my night.

For thou art more than life,
    And if our fate should set
Life and my love at strife,
    How could I then...

Reade heere (sweet Mayd) the story of my wo,
The drery abstracts of my endles cares,
With my liues sorow enterlyned so;
Smok'd with my sighes, and blotted with my teares:
The sad memorials of my miseries,
Pend in the griefe of myne afflicted ghost;
My liues complaint in doleful Elegies,
With so pure loue as tyme could neuer boast.
Receaue the incense which I offer heere,
By my strong fayth ascending to thy fame,
My zeale, my hope, my vowes, my praise, my prayer,
My soules oblation to thy sacred name:
    Which name my Muse to highest heauen shal raise
    By chast desire, true loue, and vertues praise.

The apple trees are hung with gold,
And birds are loud in Arcady,
The sheep lie bleating in the fold,
The wild goat runs across the wold,
But yesterday his love he told,
I know he will come back to me.
O rising moon!    O Lady moon!
Be you my lover's sentinel,
You cannot choose but know him well,
For he is shod with purple shoon,
You cannot choose but know my love,
For he a shepherd's crook doth bear,
And he is soft as any dove,
And brown and curly is his hair.

The turtle now has ceased to call
Upon her crimson-footed groom,
The grey wolf prowls about the stall,
The lily's singing seneschal
Sleeps in the lily-bell, and all
The violet hills are lost in gloom.
O risen moon!    O holy moon!
Stand on the top of Helice,
And if my...

Clear was the night: the moon was young:
The larkspurs in the plots
Mingled their orange with the gold
Of the forget-me-nots.

The poppies seemed a silver mist:
So darkly fell the gloom.
You scarce had guessed yon crimson streaks
Were buttercups in bloom.

But one thing moved: a little child
Crashed through the flower and fern:
And all my soul rose up to greet
The sage of whom I learn.

I looked into his awful eyes:
I waited his decree:
I made ingenious attempts
To sit upon his knee.

The babe upraised his wondering eyes,
And timidly he said,
"A trend towards experiment
In modern minds is bred.

"I feel the will to roam, to learn
By test, experience, _nous_,
That fire is hot and ocean deep,
And wolves...

In every breast Affection fires, there dwells
    A secret consciousness to what degree
    They are themselves belov'd. - We hourly see
    Th' involuntary proof, that either quells,
Or ought to quell false hopes, - or sets us free
    From pain'd distrust; - but, O, the misery!
    Weak Self-Delusion timidly repels
    The lights obtrusive - shrinks from all that tells
Unwelcome truths, and vainly seeks repose
    For startled Fondness, in the opiate balm,
    Of kind profession, tho', perchance, it flows
To hush Complaint - O! in Belief's clear calm,
    Or 'mid the lurid clouds of Doubt, we find
    LOVE rise the Sun, or Comet of the Mind.

Ah, I have changed, I do not know
Why lonely hours affect me so.
In days of yore, this were not wont,
No loneliness my soul could daunt.

For me too serious for my age,
The weighty tome of hoary sage,
Until with puzzled heart astir,
One God-giv'n night, I dreamed of her.

I loved no woman, hardly knew
More of the sex that strong men woo
Than cloistered monk within his cell;
But now the dream is lost, and hell

Holds me her captive tight and fast
Who prays and struggles for the past.
No living maid has charmed my eyes,
But now, my soul is wonder-wise.

For I have dreamed of her and seen
Her red-brown tresses' ruddy sheen,
Have known her sweetness, lip to lip,
The joy of her companionship.

When days were bleak and wi...

I found that ivory image there
Dancing with her chosen youth,
But when he wound her coal-black hair
As though to strangle her, no scream
Or bodily movement did I dare,
Eyes under eyelids did so gleam;
Love is like the lion's tooth.

When She, and though some said she played
I said that she had danced heart's truth,
Drew a knife to strike him dead,
I could but leave him to his fate;
For no matter what is said
They had all that had their hate;
Love is like the lion's tooth.

Did he die or did she die?
Seemed to die or died they both?
God be with the times when I
Cared not a thraneen for what chanced
So that I had the limbs to try
Such a dance as there was danced -
Love is like the lion's tooth.