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Yet I would spare thee all remorse,
So, comfort thee, my Fate, -
would risk it all !
SHE was only a woman, famish’d for loving,
Mad with devotion, and such slight things;
And used to finger his fiddle-strings.
Her heart's sweet gamut is cracking and breaking
For a look, for a touch,—for such slight things ; But he's such a very great musician,
Grimacing and fing'ring his fiddle-strings.
ONE WORD IS TOO OFTEN PROFANED.
ONE word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
For thee to disdain it,
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
Than that from another.
I can give not what men call love ;
But wilt thou accept not
And the Heavens reject not :
Of the night for the morrow,
From the sphere of our sorrow ?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY,
BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING
YOUNG CHARMS. BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou
art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear;
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turned when he rose.
Half hid in lilacs down the lane;
And said, “ Auf Wiedersehen!”
With hand on latch, a vision white
Lingered reluctant, and again,
She said, “ Auf Wiedersehen .!”
The lamp's clear gleam flits up the stair ;
I linger in delicious pain ;
Thinks she, “ Auf Wiedersehen!!”
'Tis thirteen years; once more I press
The turf that silences the lane ;
Į hear, “ Auf Wiedersehen!"
Sweet piece of bashful maiden art!
The English words had seem'd too fain!
James Russell Lowell.
WHEN STARS ARE IN THE QUIET SKIES.
WHEN stars are in the quiet skies,
Then most I pine for thee;
As stars look on the sea.
Are stillest when they shine;
Beneath the heaven of thine.
There is an hour when angels keep
Familiar watch o'er men,
Sweet spirit, meet me then!
Through slumber fairest glide;
Thou shouldst be by my side.
My thoughts of thee too sacred are
For daylight's common beam :
My angel and my dream;
When stars are in the quiet skies,
Then most I pine for thee; Bend on me then thy tender eyes,
As stars look on the sea.
EDWARD BULWER LYTTON,
My little love, do you remember,
Ere we were grown so sadly wise, Those evenings in the bleak December, Curtain'd warm from the snowy weather, When you and I play'd chess together,
Checkmated by each other's eyes ?
Hovering warm o'er Queen and Knight.
Moves sidling through the fight.
And falter; falls your golden hair
And checks me unaware.