« 이전계속 »
But I will briefer with them be,
An higher and a nobler strain
FROM THE THIRD BOOK OF LAWES'S AYRES.
FAIN would I love, but that I fear
The fair one she's a mark to all,
DR. R. HUGHES.
WISHES FOR THE SUPPOSED MISTRESS.
WHOE'ER she be,
Where'er she lie,
Till that ripe birth
Till that divine
A face made up
Now, if Time knows
but her story.
- no more.
RIVALRY IN LOVE.
Of all the torments, all the cares,
With which our lives are curst;
Sure rivals are the worst !
Afflictions easier grow;
Companions of our woe.
A face that's best
My dear and only love, I pray,
This noble world of thee
But purest monarchie.
Which virtuous souls abhore, And hold a synod in thy heart,
I'll never love thee more.
THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE.
It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair, Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair : Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed, Your breasts, where Cupid tumbling lies
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed, A bloomy pair of vermeil cheeks
Like Hebe's in her ruddiest hours, A breath that softer music speaks
Than summer winds a-wooing flowers ; These are but gauds : nay, what are lips ?
Coral beneath the ocean-stream, Whose brink when your adventurer slips
Full oft he perisheth on them.
Like Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone,
A rival on my throne.
Or his deserts are small,
To win or lose it all.
JAMES GRAHAM, Earl of Montrose.
And what are cheeks, but ensigns oft
That wave hot youth to fields of blood ? Did Helen's breast, though ne'er so soft,
Do Greece or Ilium any good ?
SHALL I tell you whom I love?
Hearken then awhile to me; And if such a woman move
As I now shall versify,
LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG.
ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN 1569.
Nature did her so much right
As she scorns the help of art.
As e'er yet embraced a heart.
To make known how much she hath ; And her anger flames no higher
Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
And her virtues grace her birth ;
Modest in her most of mirth. Likelihood enough to prove Only worth could kindle love. Such she is; and if you know
Such a one as I have sung ;
That she be but somewhat young;
LOVE me little, love me long !
Burneth soon to waste. Still I would not have thee cold, Not too backward, nor too bold ; Love that lasteth till 't is old
Fadeth not in haste.
For I fear the end.
To be steadfast, friend.
LOVE NOT ME FOR COMELY GRACE.
Love not me for comely grace,
So thou and I shall sever ;
To dote upon me ever.
Say thou lovest me, while thou live
While that life endures;
This my love assures. Constant love is moderate ever, And it will through life persever ; Give me that with true endeavor,
I will it restore.
Never can rebel : Such the love that I would gain, Such the love, I tell thee plain, Thou must give, or woo in vain :
So to thee farewell !
HE THAT LOVES A ROSY CHEEK.
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Fuel to maintain his fires ;
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires : Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
SHALL I love you like the wind, love,
That is so fierce and strong, That sweeps all barriers from its path
And recks not right or wrong? The passion of the wind, love,
Can never last for long
Shall I love you like the fire, love,
With furious heat and noise,
And little of love's joys ?
Whate'er it finds, destroys.
I will love you like the stars, love,
Set in the heavenly blue,
After weeping tears of dew;
They love the ages through !
And when this life is o'er, love,
With all its joys and jars,
To wage their boisterous wars,
The nearer to the stars !
R. W. RAYMOND.
A “MERCENARY" MARRIAGE.
She moves as light across the grass
As moves my shadow large and tall ; And like my shadow, close yet free, The thought of her aye
me, My little maid of Moreton Hall.
No matter how or where we loved,
Or when we 'll wed, or what befall ;
Though to dust crumbles Moreton Hall.
Her pedigree - good sooth, 't is long !
Her grim sires stare from every wall ;
As meek she glides through Moreton Hall. Whilst I have — nothing ; save, perhaps,
Some worthless heaps of idle gold
Therefore they say her heart was sold !
Laugh as we ride 'neath chestnuts tall,
At the fair maid of Moreton Hall ;
We let the neighbors talk their fill,
For life is sweet, and love is strong, And two, close knit in marriage ties, The whole world's shams may well despise,
Its folly, madness, shame, and wrong.
“I only know my mother's love
Which gives all and asks nothing,
And this new loving sets the groove
Too much the way of loathing.
“Unless he gives me all in change,
I forfeit all things by him : The risk is terrible and strange
I tremble, doubt, ... deny him.
“He's sweetest friend, or hardest foe,
Best angel, or worst devil ;
I can't be merely civil !
That thou hast kept a portion back,
While I have staked the whole,
That mine cannot fulfil ? ,
Could better wake or still ? Speak now, lest at some future day My whole life wither and decay. Lives there within thy nature hid
: The demon-spirit, change, Shedding a passing glory still
On all things new and strange ?
And answer to my claim,
Not thou, — had been to blame?
The words would come too late ; Yet I would spare thee all remorse,
So comfort thee, my fate : Whatever on my heart may fall, Remember, I would risk it all!
"You trust a woman who puts forth
Her blossoms thick as summer's ? You think she dreams what love is worth,
Who casts it to new-comers ?
"Such love's a cowslip-ball to Aling,
A moment's pretty pastime ; I give ... all me, if anything,
The first time and the last time.
“Dear neighbor of the trellised house,
A man should murmur never, Though treated worse than dog and mouse,
Till doted on forever!”
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
THE LADY'S “YES."
A WOMAN'S QUESTION.
BEFORE I trust my fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine,
Color and form to mine,
A shadow of regret :
That holds thy spirit yet?
A possible future shine,
Untouched, unshared by mine ? If so, at any pain or cost, 0, tell me before all is lost !
“YES," I answered
last night; No," this morning, sir, I say. Colors seen by candle-lig!
Will not look the same by day. When the viols played their best,
Lamps above, and laughs below, Love me sounded like a jest,
Fit for yes or fit for no. Call me false or call me free,
Vow, whatever light may shine, No man on your face shall see
Any grief for change on mine. Yet the sin is on us both ;
Time to dance is not to woo ; Wooing light makes fickle troth
Scorn of me recoils on you.
Learn to win a lady's faith
Nobly, as the thing is high, Bravely, as for life and death,
With a loyal gravity.
Look deeper still : if thou canst feel,
Within thy inmost soul,