V

Me thought, (last night) love in an anger came,
And brought a rod, so whipt me with the same:
Mirtle the twigs were, meerly to imply;
Love strikes, but 'tis with gentle crueltie.
Patient I was: Love pitifull grew then,
And stroak'd the stripes, and I was whole agen.
Thus like a Bee, Love-gentle stil doth bring
Hony to salve, where he before did sting.

Farewell to love and all I see
In these dull English skies
For all the world turns round wi' me
Lost in thy two bright eyes

So fare-thee-well—a lover lost
I go where none can blame
And dearly shall I rue the cost
And scarcely keep a name

The little flowers and wild birds song
I leave them far away
In other lands and other tongues
A lonely bard to stray

In other lands I'll think of thee
Nor mortal love adore
The north star must its temple be
Where nought can change no more

Save only that faith and reason I've lost, belovéd one,
I prithee, come say, what profit From love of thee I've won.

Though grief to the wind hath given The harvest of my life,
By the dust of thy foot, I've never The pact of love fordone!

Though abject I was as the sun-mote, By Love's fair auspice, see,
For wish of thy cheek I've raised me Up even to the sun.

Bring wine, for 'tis now a lifetime That, for salvation's sake,
I sit in the nook of safety And ease and pleasance shun.

If thou be sober, preacher, Cast not thy speech in the dust;

Saadi loved the new & old
The near & far the town & wold
Him when Genius urged to roam
Stronger Custom brot him home

Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.

Making love to a temple boy
on top of a horse.

At a mountain temple
they use a chess board

CCXXIX

I am ready and ever will be
To do you service with honesty.
There is nothing that lacks in me
But that I have not.

My poor heart always and my mind
Fixed in yours you shall still find.
To love you best reason doth bind
Although I have not.

And for your sake I would be glad
To have much more than I have had,
The lack whereof doth make me sad
Because I have not.

For I do love ye faithfully
And ye me again right secretly.
Of let there is no cause why
But that I have not.

'T IS joy to feel the spirit leap
Angelic from its childhood sleep,
Pure as a star, fair as a flower,
Eager with youth's unblasted power;
Where every sense gives soft consent,
To burst into love's element;
To be all touch, all eye, all ear,
And pass into love's burning sphere.

“Oh, have you not a message, you who come over the sea?
Have you not a message or word at all for me?”

“I have sailed, sailed, sailed where the seas are green and blue,
I've silver, gold and merchandise—but never a word for you.”

“But did you see my love by any way you came?
For if you saw my love, he must have spoke my name.”

“Oh, yes, I saw your love—oh, yes, and he was gay
Riding in his coach-and-six all on his birthday.”

“But when you spoke of me, of me—oh! what was it he said?”
“Oh, he never said a word at all, but turned away his head.”