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Assurbanipal loved me
He built for my love
A walled city
Thither he drove
The sun in chains
Fire, captives and slaves
And the Euphrates
River of paradise.
Half his heart was imprisoned
In the world-enchanted well
The other half devoured
By Assyrian eagles: thus
He loved me.
He was a storm
In destiny's hand he was
The axe that fell
On the skulls of kings
On cities and fortresses
Because I never could
Reciprocate his love
Trees withered and died
The Euphrates ran dry
The city disappeared

Asses' milk, half a pint, take at seven, or before,
Then sleep for an hour or two, and no more.
At nine stretch your arms, and oh! think, when alone,
There's no pleasure in bed.--"Mary, bring me my gown.'
Slip on that ere you rise; let your caution be such,
Keep all cold from your breast, there's already too much.
Your pinners set right, your twitcher tied on,
Your prayers at an end, and your breakfast quite done,
Retire to some author improving and gay,
And with sense like your own, set your mind for the day.

( TO BE READ ALOUD RAPIDLY )

Assert ten Barren love day made
 Dan woo'd her hart buy nigh tan day;
Butt wen knee begged she 'd marry hymn,
 The crewel bell may dancer neigh.
Lo atter fee tin vein he side
 Ant holder office offal pane—
A lasses mown touched knot terse sole—
 His grown was sever awl Lynn vane.

“Owe, beam my bride, my deer, rye prey,
 And here mice size beef ore rye dye;
Oak caste mean knot tin scorn neigh way—
 Yew are the apple love me nigh!”
She herd Dan new we truly spoke.

ON A LADY, WHOM GRIEF FOR THE DEATH OF HER BETROTHED KILLED

Assemble, all ye maidens, at the door,
And all ye loves, assemble; far and wide
Proclaim the bridal, that proclaimed before
Has been deferred to this late eventide:
———For on this night the bride,
——The days of her betrothal over,
—Leaves the parental hearth for evermore;
To-night the bride goes forth to meet her lover.

Reach down the wedding vesture, that has lain
—Yet all unvisited, the silken gown:
Bring out the bracelets, and the golden chain

An ass will with his long ears fray
The flies, that tickle him, away;
But Man delights to have his ears
Blown maggots in by flatterers.

Askest, " How long thou shalt stay,"
Devastator of the day?
Know, each substance, and relation,
Thorough nature's operation,
Hath its unit, bound, and metre;
And every new compound
Is some product and repeater, —
Product of the early found.
But the unit of the visit,
The encounter of the wise, —
Say, what other metre is it
Than the meeting of the eyes?
Nature poureth into nature
Through the channels of that feature.
Riding on the ray of sight,
More fleet than waves or whirlwinds go,
Or for service, or delight,

Ask the Empress of the night
How the hand which guides her sphere,
Constant in unconstant light,
Taught the waves her yoke to bear,
And did thus by loving force
Curb or tame the rude sea's course.

Ask the female palm how she
First did woo her husband's love;
And the magnet, ask how he
Doth the obsequious iron move;
Waters, plants and stones know this,
That they love, not what love is.

Be not then less kind than these,
Or from love exempt alone;
Let us twine like amorous trees,
And like rivers melt in one;

Ask nothing more of me, sweet;
—All I can give you I give.
——Heart of my heart, were it more,
More would be laid at your feet:
—Love that should help you to live,
——Song that should spur you to soar.

All things were nothing to give
—Once to have sense of you more,
——Touch you and taste of you, sweet,
Think you and breathe you and live,
—Swept of your wings as they soar,
——Trodden by chance of your feet.

I that have love and no more
—Give you but love of you, sweet:
——He that hath more, let him give;

Ask me no more, why there appears
Dayly such troopes of Dragooners?
Since it is requisite, you know;
They rob cum privilegio .

Ask me no more, why th' Gaole confines
Our Hierarchy of best divines?
Since some in Parliament agree
'Tis for the Subjects Liberty.

Ask me no more, why from Blackwall
Great tumults come into Whitehall ?
Since it 's allow'd, by free consent,
The Privilege of Parliament.

Ask me not, why to London comes
So many Musquets, Pikes and Drums?
Although you fear they'll never cease;

Loveliest of what I leave behind is the sunlight,
and loveliest after that the shining stars, and the moon's face,
but also cucumbers that are ripe, and pears, and apples.