SEVEN TIMES THREE. LOVE .

I LEANED out of window, I smelt the white clover,
Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate;
" Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover —
Hush, nightingale, hush! O, sweet nightingale, wait
Till I listen and hear
If a step draweth near,
For my love he is late!

" The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer,
A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree,

Blind loving wrestling touch! Sheathed hooded sharptoothed touch!
Did it make you ache so leaving me?

Parting tracked by arriving . . . . perpetual payment of the perpetual loan,
Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward.

Sprouts take and accumulate . . . . stand by the curb prolific and vital,
Landscapes projected masculine full-sized and golden.

To my louing and deere mother, the citly of Hereford.

E PIG . 281.

H EREFORDE , haue with thee! nay I cannot haue
That which thou hast; for thou hast mirth and ease,—
I say not slouth, lest I should thee depraue;
Yet ease can haue no paine that can displease
Hadst thou lesse ease thy mirth would bee the more;
For painefull hands in fine make pleasant harts.
But idle hands make harts to labour sore
With sorrow that annoyes the other parts
But in thy bozome thou hast many heads

To my louing friend Stephen Boughton one of the gentlemen of his Maiestie's Chappell.

S CENTOR the Greeke that with his thundring voice
 Could drownd the din of fifty showting men,
(Albec't they made most admirable noise)
Can not compare with thee, my good Stephen:
 Who with thy voyce dost make each quire to shake;
 Whose diapassons like great deuills speake.

The worlds light shines; shine as it will,
The world will love its Darknesse still:
I doubt though when the World's in Hell,
It will not love its Darknesse halfe so well.

The brocade and rush hat you loved —
it dropped, it dropped
into the Kamo River, into midstream!
I've been looking for it, asking for it,
and now the day has come, the day has come
after a rustling, clear autumn night!

The potter at Mimaki in Kusuha —
he makes pots, but his daughter's good-looking.
Ah, she's so beautiful!
If I could put her on a love cart
in a procession of three carts, four carts,
and have her called " the governor's lady " !

" Much, much in love, you see her by chance,
then go to bed; that night,
what kind of dream will you have? "
" Thrusting, thrusting, then
holding her tight — that's what I'll dream! "

Let's make love. The night has turned
to daybreak. Bells are ringing.
We've made love since evening
but I'm not tired.
What shall I do?

XVIII SEATHWAITE CHAPEL

Sacred Religion! " mother of form and fear,"
Dread arbitress of mutable respect,
New rites ordaining when the old are wrecked,
Or cease to please the fickle worshipper;
Mother of Love! (that name best suits thee here)
Mother of Love! for this deep vale, protect
Truth's holy lamp, pure source of bright effect,
Gifted to purge the vapoury atmosphere
That seeks to stifle it; — as in those days
When this low Pile a Gospel Teacher knew,
Whose good works formed an endless retinue: