To Alice and Hypatia Bradlaugh

Who was Lilah? I am sure
She was young and sweet and pure;
With the forehead wise men love,-
Here a lucid dawn above
Broad curved brows, and twilight there,
Under the deep dusk of hair.
And her eyes? I cannot say
Whether brown, or blue, or grey:
I have seen them brown, and blue,
And a soft green grey-the hue
Shakespeare loved (and he was wise):
'Grey as glass' were Silvia's eyes.

So to Lilah's name above
I will add two names I love,
Linking with the bracket curls

Like to a coin, passing from hand to hand,
Are common memories, and day by day
The sharpness of their impress wears away.
But love's remembrances unspoiled with-stand
The touch of time, as in an antique land
Where some proud town old centuries did slay,
Intaglios buried lie, still in decay
Perfect and precious spite of grinding sand.
What fame or joy or sorrow has been ours,
What we have hoped or feared, we may forget.
The clearness of all memory time deflours,
Save that of love alone, persistent yet

I LIKE YOU BUT
DO I LOVE YOU?
Crazy I’m not sure
Could it be no yes?
I don’t know, how
Could it be if I
Like the one you
Call Sister I never
In wildest dreams
Thought you
Would fall
For me, unthinkable
Unbelievable
Me flirtatious
No Doubt
But SHY
OF COURSE
DO I LIKE HER MORE?
NO! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
So what then lets me
Keep her all over me
Whatever it is it will
STOP
It will not go on
This is true
I am sure
I like you
A whole
Lot more
My promise is

Like a tulip, my robe I'll rent,
and come forth;
O Padmani, I'm thy loved,
infamed by my love

Joy stayed with me a night --
Young and free and fair --
And in the morning light
He left me there.

Then Sorrow came to stay,
And lay upon my breast
He walked with me in the day.
And knew me best.

I'll never be a bride,
Nor yet celibate,
So I'm living now with Pride --
A cold bedmate.

He must not hear nor see,
Nor could he forgive
That Sorrow still visits me
Each day I live.

'Oh, sad thy lot before I came,
But sadder when I go;
My presence but a flash of flame,
A transitory glow
Between two barren wastes like snow.
What wilt thou do when I am gone,
Where wilt thou rest, my dear?
For cold thy bed to rest upon,
And cold the falling year
Whose withered leaves are lost and sere.'

She hushed the baby at her breast,
She rocked it on her knee:
'And I will rest my lonely rest,
Warmed with the thought of thee,
Rest lulled to rest by memory.'
She hushed the baby with her kiss,

Light is love without esteem.
Lighter than a feather,
But ours has borne
Contempt and scorn,
And sorrow's wintry weather!
Then, never more, never mare
Shall we sever;
I am thine-thou art mine,
For ever and for ever.

Never shall affliction's scowl
Or its touch divide us;
Let fortune frown.
Or men look down,
And evil days betide us :
Never more, never more
Shall we sever;
I am thine-thou art mine,
For ever and for ever.

When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!

Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!

In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:

Hunger goes sleeplessly
Thinking of food;
Evil lies painfully
Yearning for good.
Life is a confluence:
Nature must move,
Like the heart of a poet,
Toward beauty and love.

We are a liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.
The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love! love!
as if it were a coin with a fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.