The harp we love hath a royal burst!
Its strings are mighty forest trees;
And branches, swaying to and fro,
Are fingers sounding symphonies.

The harp we love hath a solemn sound!
And rocks amongst the shallow seas
Are strings from which the rolling waves
Draw forth their stirring harmonies.

The harp we love hath a low sweet voice!
Its strings are in the bosom deep,
And Love will press those hidden chords
When all the baser passions sleep.

Hark, all ye lovely saints above,
Diana hath agreed with Love,
His fiery weapon to remove. Fa la.
Do you not see
How they agree?
Then cease, fair ladies; why weep ye? Fa la.

See, see, your mistress bids you cease,
And welcome Love, with love's increase;
Diana hath procured your peace. Fa la.
Cupid hath sworn
His bow forlorn
To break and burn, ere ladies mourn. Fa la.

Hard destinies are love and beauty parted,
Fair Daphne so disdainful!
Cupid, thy shafts are too unjustly darted;
Fond love, thy wounds are painful:
But sith my lovely jewel
Is prov’d so coy and cruel,
I’ll live and frolic in her beauty’s treasure,
But languish, faint, and die in her displeasure

Happy streams, whose trembling fall,
With still murmur softly gliding,
Happy birds, whose chirping call,
With sweet melody delighting,
Hath mov’d her flinty and relentless heart,
To listen to your harmony,
And sit securely in these downs apart,
Enchanted with your melody.
Sing on, and carol forth your glee,
She grants you leave her rays to see:
Happy were I, could love, but so delight her!
But Ah! alas! my love doth still despite her.

Hang the body and the mind between the arms of the beloved,
in the ecstasy of love's joy:

Bring the tearful streams of the rainy clouds to your eyes,
and cover your heart with the shadow of darkness:

Bring your face nearer to his ear,
and speak of the deepest longings of your heart.

Kabir says: 'Listen to me brother!
bring the vision of the Beloved in your heart.'

FEBRILE perfumes as of faded roses
In the old house speak of love to-day,
Love long past; and where the soft day closes,
Down the west gleams, golden-red, a ray.
Pointing where departed splendor perished,
And the path that night shall walk, and hang,
On blue boughs of heaven, gold, long cherished —
Fruit Hesperian,— that the ancients sang.
And to him, who sits there dreaming, musing,
At the window in the twilight wan,
Like old scent of roses interfusing,
Comes a vision of a day that's gone.
And he sees Youth, walking brave but dimly

Yes, yes! I love thee, Guilo; thee alone.
Why dost thou sigh, and wear that face of sorrow?
The sunshine is to-day's, although it shone
On yesterday, and may shine on to-morrow.
I love but thee, my Guilo! be content;
The greediest heart can claim but present pleasure.
The future is thy God's. The past is spent.
To-day is thine; clasp close the precious treasure.
See how I love thee, Guilo! Lips and eyes
Could never under thy fond gaze dissemble.
I could not feign these passion-laden sighs;
Deceiving thee, my pulses would not tremble.

I loved my love from green of Spring
Until sere Autumn's fall;
But now that leaves are withering
How should one love at all?
One heart's too small
For hunger, cold, love, everything.


I loved my love on sunny days
Until late Summer's wane;
But now that frost begins to glaze
How should one love again ?
Nay, love and pain
Walk wide apart in diverse ways.


I loved my love - alas to see
That this should be, alas!
I thought that this could scarcely be,
Yet has it come to pass:

With the freshness and placid sensations of morning,
As yet all unconscious of hope or of plan,
(Sweet gleams through thin hazes the prospect adorning,)
'Twas thus that our dawn of attachment began.
If 'twere Friendship or Love, that we knew not full surely,
But yet 'twas delicious to saunter along,
Not quite quessing whither, but feeling securely,
With such omens around us—we couldn't go wrong.

With hearts thus uncertain, (for hearts have their weather,)
Full many a pathway we threaded, and grove;

She gave me hope
she gave me love,
with bounty unalloyed.
But what she had of faith,
alas,
she gave to Freud.