Let me be warme; let me be fully fed:
Luxurious Love by Wealth is nourished.
Let me be leane, and cold, and once grown poore,
I shall dislike, what once I lov'd before.

I'm free from thee; and thou no more shalt heare
My puling Pipe to beat against thine eare:
Farewell my shackles, (though of pearle they be)
Such precious thraldome ne'r shall fetter me.
He loves his bonds, who when the first are broke,
Submits his neck unto a second yoke.

Why this Flower is now call'd so,
List' sweet maids, and you shal know.
Understand, this First-ling was
Once a brisk and bonny Lasse,
Kept as close as Danae was:
Who a sprightly Springall lov'd,
And to have it fully prov'd,
Up she got upon a wall,
Tempting down to slide withall:
But the silken twist unty'd,
So she fell, and bruis'd, she dy'd.
Love, in pitty of the deed,
And her loving-lucklesse speed,
Turn'd her to this Plant, we call
Now, The Flower of the Wall.

When what is lov'd, is Present, love doth spring;
But being absent, Love lies languishing.

Thou angel face! — like a small exquisite cage,
Such as some old Chinese
Once spent his love and skill on — youth to age,
In hope its destined prisoner to please;
And then had empty left; since he had heard
What death would do in setting free the bird.

O Time — the heedless child you are!
A daisy, the most distant star
Fall to your toying scimitar.

And I? And this loved face? We too
Are things but of a moment. True:
But then, poor youngling, so are you!

Dream on! In your small company
We are contented merely to be —
Yes, even to Eternity.

Hearken! Tiny, clear, discrete:
The listener within deems solely his,
A music so remote and sweet
It all but lovely as silence is.

Angel of Words, in vain I have striven with thee,
Nor plead a lifetime's love and loyalty;
Only, with envy, bid thee watch this face,
That says so much, so flawlessly,
And in how small a space!

Why, then, if love is all there is need to give,
All love be thine.
Thine the bright wonder of this life I live,
Its doubt's dark broodings mine.

Serene that marvellous waste of crystal sky,
And that gaunt crook-backed tree!
Hush! breathes the wind invisibly rippling by,
Hush! to the wild bird's cry ...

Yet even as mind vowed no more to grieve,
Heart answered with a sigh.

VOL. 3, C ANTIQUE 48

Sun ! stay thy course, this moment stay —
Suspend th' o'erflowing tide of day,
Divulge not such a Love as mine,
Ah! hide the mystery divine,
Lest man, who deems my glory shame,
Should learn the secret of my flame.

Oh night! propitious to my views,
Thy sable awning wide diffuse:
Conceal alike my joy and pain,
Nor draw thy curtain back again,
Though morning, by the tears she shows,
Seems to participate my woes.

Ye stars! whose faint and feeble fires
Express my languishing desires,