"LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT" It's we two, it's we two, it's we two for aye, What's the world, my lass, my love!-what can it do? I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and new. If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by; For we two have gotten leave, and once more we'll try. Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! When the darker days come, and no sun will shine, MY OWEN PROUD of you, fond of you, clinging so near to you, Light is my heart now I know I am dear to you! Glad is my voice now, so free it may sing for you All the wild love that is burning within for you! Tell me once more, tell it over and over, The tale of that eve which first saw you my lover. Now I need never blush At my heart's hottest gush The wife of my Owen her heart may discover! Proud of you, fond of you, having all right in you, Quitting all else through my love and delight in you! Glad is my heart since 'tis beating so nigh to you! Light is my step for it always may fly to you! Doris: A Pastoral 1167 Clasped in your arms where no sorrow can reach to me, By that blest marriage vow, More than the wisest know your heart shall preach to me. Ellen Mary Patrick Downing [1828-1869] DORIS: A PASTORAL I SAT with Doris, the shepherd maiden; And she, my Doris, whose lap incloses Wild summer roses of faint perfume, The while I sued her, kept hushed and harkened She touched my shoulder with fearful finger; I answered bolder, "Nay, let me hear you, She whispered, sighing, “There will be sorrow Said I, denying, "If they do miss you, They ought to kiss you when you get home; "They might remember," she answered meekly, 66 That lambs are weakly and sheep are wild; But if they love me it's none so fervent— I am a servant and not a child." Then each hot ember glowed quick within me, "Ah! do but prove me, and none shall bind you, She blushed and started, and stood awaiting, But I did brave them--I told her plainly, So we, twin-hearted, from all the valley That simple duty such grace did lend her, And now in beauty she fills my dwelling And love doth guard her, both fast and fervent, No more a servant, nor yet a child. Arthur Joseph Munby [1828-1910] "HE'D NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN" HE'D nothing but his violin, I'd nothing but my song, But we were wed when skies were blue And summer days were long; And when we rested by the hedge, The robins came and told How they had dared to woo and win, When early Spring was cold. Love's Calendar We sometimes supped on dew-berries, But oft the farmers' wives at eve Came out to hear us play; The rare old songs, the dear old tunes,— While my man had his violin, And I my sweet love-song. The world has aye gone well with us Old man since we were one, Our homeless wandering down the lanes It long ago was done. But those who wait for gold or gear, For houses or for kine, Till youth's sweet spring grows brown and sere, And love and beauty tine, Will never know the joy of hearts That met without a fear, When you had but your violin And I a song, my dear. 1169 Mary Kyle Dallas [1830-1897] LOVE'S CALENDAR THAT gusty spring, each afternoon And noted at that lattice soon Her fair face downward cast; Oft-times I said I knew her not, For, leaning on her pail, she prayed, So did I; but I'm much afraid Some wasteful drops were shed, Then when the sunset mellowed through When ash-leaves fell like rain, At morn or eve I neared her bower. And now that snow o'erlays the thatch, Each starlit eve within The door she waits, I raise the latch, Nor do I think we've blushed again, For Love hath made but one of twain. William Bell Scott [1811-1890] HOME Two birds within one nest; Two hearts within one breast; Two spirits in one fair, Firm league of love and prayer, Together bound for aye, together blest. An ear that waits to catch A hand upon the latch; A step that hastens its sweet rest to win; A world of care without, A world of strife shut out, A world of love shut in. Dora Greenwell [1821-1882] TWO LOVERS Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, And heard the wooing thrushes sing. |