Not thine but ours this day shall prove.
All others in the year that be
Thou makest thine by deeds of love:
This day is ours—to give to thee.

Come let's goo down the grove to-night;
The moon is up, 'tis all so light
As day, an' win' do blow enough
To sheäke the leaves, but tiddèn rough.
Come, Esther, teäke, vor wold time's seäke,
Your hooded cloke, that's on the pin,
An' wrap up warm, an' teäke my eärm,
You'll vind it better out than in.
Come, Etty dear; come out o' door,
An' teäke a sweetheart's walk woonce mwore.

How charmèn to our very souls,
Wer woonce your evenèn maïden strolls,
The while the zettèn zunlight dyed
Wi' red the beeches' western zide,
But back avore your vinger wore

O Study! while thy lovers raise
Thy name with all the pow'r of praise,
Frown not, thou nymph with piercing mind!
If in this bosom thou should'st find
That all thy deep, thy brilliant, lore,
Which charm'd it once, now charms no more:
Frown not, if, on thy classic line,
One strange, uncall'd-for, tear should shine;
Frown not, if, when a smile should start,
A sigh should heave an aching heart:
If Mem'ry, roving far away,
Should an unmeaning homage pay,
Should ask thee for thy golden fruit,
And, when thou deign'st to hear her suit,

O love, depart,
Mislead my heart
No more, I do implore you.
I love your chains
But fear your pains—
I dread you and adore you.

Your voice is sweet,
Your touch replete
With all alluring blisses,
Your languid eye
Bewitching sly
And heaven is in your kisses.

You smile, and lo,
The heart's aglow
With radiant passion flowers.
But, ah, your frown
Doth shatter down
Their leaves like autumn showers.

No, Love, depart,
I'll trust my heart
No more unto your keeping.
Though some you bless
With happiness,

So far, so far gone out of sight,
My strained eyes follow thee no more;
Thou to the left, I to the right,
Never to meet as heretofore.

Yet though the distance grows so wide,
We tread Love's circle year by year;
We are nearer on the other side
The farther we are sundered here.

For the tie is snapt asunder,
Trust and loving hope are fled;
Can I tell, in fear and wonder,
With what dangers now bested,
I, cut off from friend and brother,
Like the widow in her woe,
With the one and not the other,
On and on, my way must go!

Lady, for the love of God,
Have some pity upon me!
See my eyes, a river-flood
Day and night, oh, see!
Brothers, cousins, uncles, all,
Have I lost for thee;
If thou dost not me recall,

Day's sweetest moments are at dawn;
Refreshed by his long sleep, the Light
Kisses the languid lips of Night,
Ere she can rise and hasten on.
All glowing from his dreamless rest
He holds her closely to his breast,
Warm lip to lip and limb to limb,
Until she dies for love of him.

Oh, how long, how long was the night!
And I spent it in passion and tears,
Thinking only of you, of you,
At the night-bird's song, at the dawn and the dew,
Love, how long, how long, was the night!

O love, that you and I might wing our way
Far from the restlessness of earth and sea,
Past the fresh well-heads of the springing day,
To where grey hills sleep everlastingly!

They through the lapse of ages sleep unchanged
(From the primeval deeps they never burst)
In that sweet land where yet unborn we ranged,
By those swift rivers where I loved you first.