A WORLD of leafage murmurous and a twinkle;
The green, delicious plenitude of June;
Love and laughter and song
The blue day long
Going to the same glad, golden tune—
The same glad tune!

Clouds on the dim, delighting skies a sprinkle;
Poplars black in the wake of a setting moon;
Love and languor and sleep
And the star-sown deep
Going to the same good, golden tune—
The same good tune!

Love , which is lust, is the Lamp in the Tomb.
Love, which is lust, is the Call from the Gloom.

Love, which is lust, is the Main of Desire.
Love, which is lust, is the Centric Fire.

So man and woman will keep their trust,
Till the very Springs of the Sea run dust.

Yea, each with the other will lose and win,
Till the very Sides of the Grave fall in.

For the strife of Love's the abysmal strife,
And the word of Love is the Word of Life.

And they that go with the Word unsaid,
Though they seem of the living, are damned and dead.

After the grim daylight,
Night—
Night and the stars and the sea!
Only the sea, and the stars
And the star-shown sails and spars—
Naught else in the night for me!

Over the northern height,
Light—
Light and the dawn of a day
With nothing for me but a breast
Laboured with love's unrest,
And the irk of an idle May!

Erechtheus next th' Athenian Sceptre sway'd,
Whose Rule the State with joynt Consent obey'd;
So mix'd his Justice with his Valour flow'd,
His Reign one Scene of Princely Goodness shew'd.
Four hopeful Youths, as many Females bright,
Sprung from his Loyns, and sooth'd him with Delight.
Two of these Sisters, of a lovelier Air,
Excell'd the rest, tho' all the rest were fair.
Procris , to Cephalus in Wedlock ty'd,
Bless'd the young Silvan with a blooming Bride:
For Orithyia Boreas suffer'd Pain,

I dreamed again, and lo, a solemn glory
Transfigured earth and sea;
The vibrant universe revealed a story
Of love and power to me.
Oh, never was such light on earth beholden,
Save when the sacred gleam,
Upon the spirits of the seers olden,
Breathed mystery and dream.

I think that haply angel hands had chanced
The door of some bright zone
Of heaven to open, so to me there glanced
The radiance of the throne.
'Twas not as earth-light that must go unbending
Into the fields afar,
But all diffuse, it spread abroad unending

I dreamed that I was God, the great All-seeing;
The ceaseless urge was mine
That fires the throbbing, blood-red heart of Being,
The Alchemist divine.
I saw and knew that lesser good is evil,
The evil lesser good;
That love can change the basest hell-upheaval
To human brotherhood.

I heard the tramp of onward-marching nations,
I saw their mirth and tears;
I felt the passions of the generations
That thundered down the years;
I clashed as foe with foeman, fire-hearted,
I heard the war-guns boom,

A QUARRELI WITH LOUE

O H that I could write a story
Of Loues dealing with affection:
How hee makes the spirit sory,
That is toucht with his infection.

But he doth so closely winde him
In the plaits of will ill pleased,
That the heart can neuer finde him
Till it be too much diseased.

Tis a subtill kinde of spirit,
Of a venome kinde of nature;
That can like a conny ferret,
Creepe vnwares vpon a creature.

Neuer eye that can beholde it,
Though it worketh first by seeing;

A FAREWELL TO CONCEIPT

Farewell Conceit: Coceit no more wel fare:
Hope feeds the heart with humours, to no end:
Fortune is false, in dealing of her share:
Virtue in heauen must only seeke a friend.

Adieu, Desire. Desire, no more adieu
Will hath no leasure to regard desart:
Love findes, too late, the prouerbe all too true,
That Beauties eyes stoode neuer in her heart.

Away, poore Loue. Loue, seek no more a way
Vnto thy woe, where wishing is no wealth:
In nightes deepe darkenesse neuer looke for day

AD ISPLEASURE AGAINST L OUE .

Love is witty, but not wise,
When he stares on Beauties eyes;
Finding wonders in conceit
That doe fall out but deceit.

Wit is stable, but not staied,
When his senses are betraied;
Where too late Sorrow doth proue
Beauty makes a foole of Loue.

Youth is forward, but too fond.
When he falles in Cupids bond;
Where repentance lets him see
Fancy fast is neuer free.

Age is cunning, but vnkinde,
When he once growes Cupid -blinde:
For when Beauty is vntoward,

A FAREWELL TO LOUE

Farewell Loue, and louing folly
All thy thoughts are too vnholly:
Beauty strikes thee full of blindenesse
And then kils thee with vnkindnesse.

Farewell wit, and witty reason
All betrai'd by Fancies treason:
Loue hath of all joy bereft thee.
And to Sorrow only left thee.

Farewell will, and wilfull fancy,
All in daunger of a frenzy,
Love to Beauties bowe hath wonne thee
And togither all vndone thee.

Farewell Beauty Sorrowes agent;
Farewell Sorrow, Patience pagent;