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But if, at first, her virgin fear

Should start at love's suspected name, With that of friendship soothe her fearTrue love and friendship are the same.

James Thomson.

LXV.

LOVE'S PETITION.

ONLY ME.

You love all, you say,

Round, beneath, above me :

Find me, then, some other way

Better than to love me,

Me, too, dearest May !

O world-kissing eyes

Which the blue heavens melt to!

I, sad, over-wise,

Loathe the sweet looks dealt to

All things-men and flies.

You love all, you say,

Therefore, Dear, abate me

Just your love, I pray !

Shut your eyes and hate me—

Only me-fair May!

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

LXVI.

LOVE'S PETITION.

A GOLDEN CHAIN.

I WOULD be calm,-I would be free
From thoughts and images of thee;
But Nature and thy will conspire
To bar me from my fair desire.

E

The trees are moving with thy grace;
The waters will reflect thy face;
The very flowers are plotting deep,
And in thy breath their odours steep.
The breezes, when mine eyes I close,
With sighs, just like mine own, impose;
The nightingale then takes her part,
And plays thy voice against my heart.

If thou then in one golden chain
Canst bind the world, I strive in vain ;
Perchance thy wisest scheme would be
To join this great conspiracy.

Richard, Lord Houghton.

LXVII.

LOVE'S PETITION,

WAITING.

I GIVE thee treasures hour by hour,
That old-time princes asked in vain,
And pined for in their useless power,
Or died of passion's eager pain.

I give thee love as God gives light,
Aside from merit, or from prayer,
Rejoicing in its own delight,

And freer than the lavish air.

I give thee prayers, like jewels strung,
On golden threads of hope and fear;
And tenderer thoughts than ever hung
In a sad angel's pitying tear.

As earth pours freely to the sea

Her thousand streams of wealth untold,

So flows my silent life to thee,

Glad that its very sands are gold,

What care I for thy carelessness?
I give from depths that overflow,
Regardless that their power to bless
Thy spirit cannot sound or know.

Far lingering on a distant dawn

My triumph shines, more sweet than late;
When from these mortal mists withdrawn,
Thy heart shall know me-I can wait.

Rose Terry.

LXVIII.

LOVE'S PETITION.

YOU'LL LOVE ME YET!

YOU'LL love me yet!—and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared that bunch of flowers you carry,
From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed

At least is sure to strike,

And yield-what you'll not pluck, indeed,

Not love, but, may be, like!

You'll look at least on love's remains,

A grave's one violet :

Your look ?-that pays a thousand pains.

What's death? You'll love me yet!

Robert Browning.

LXIX.

LOVE'S SURRENDER.

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;

The cloud may stoop from Heaven and take the

shape,

With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;

But O too fond, when have I answered thee?

Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
I love not hollow cheek or faded eye;

Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!
Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live ;
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are sealed :
I strove against the stream and all in vain :
Let the great river take me to the main :
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
Ask me no more.

LXX.

Alfred Tennyson.

LOVE COMPLYING.

CHLOE found Amyntas lying,
All in tears, upon the plain,
Sighing to himself, and crying,
"Wretched I, to love in vain !
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain!"

Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I to love in vain!

Ever scorning and denying

To reward your faithful swain :
Kiss me, dear, before my dying:
Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

Ever scorning and denying

To reward your faithful swain."
Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him that he loved in vain :
"Kiss me, dear, before my dying,

Kiss me once, and ease my pain!"

Chloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him that he loved in vain :
But, repenting and complying,

When he kissed she kissed again :
Kissed him up before his dying,

Kissed him up, and eased his pain.

John Dryden.

LXXI.

LOVE'S FRUITION.

THE HAPPY "YES."

Go not, happy day,

From the shining fields;

Go not, happy day,

Till the maiden yields.

Rosy is the West,

Rosy is the South,

Roses are her cheeks,

And a rose her mouth.

When the happy Yes

Falters from her lips, Pass and blush the news

Over glowing ships;

Over blowing seas,

Over seas at rest,

Pass the happy news,

Blush it through the West;

Till the red man dance

By his cedar-tree,
And the red man's babe

Leap, beyond the sea.
Blush from West to East,

Blush from East to West,

Till the West is East,

Blush it through the West.

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