From thy fair face I learn, O my loved lord,
that which no mortal tongue can rightly say;
the soul, imprisoned in her house of clay,
holpen by thee to God hath often soared:

and though the vulgar, vain, malignant horde
attribute what their grosser wills obey,
yet shall this fervent homage that I pay,
this love, this faith, pure joys for us afford.

Lo, all the lovely things we find on earth
resemble for the soul that rightly sees,
that source of bliss divine which gave us birth:

nor have we first-fruits or remembrances

All in the lilac-rain,
—Tender and sweet,
Brushing the window-pane
—Sudden—and fleet!
Came the dear wraith of her
—Out of lost Mays—
(Ah, but the faith of her,
—True to old ways!)

Scarcely her face I knew
—Dim in the wet;
Only her eyes of blue
—Who could forget!
Hands full of lilacs too—
—Lilac crowned, yet!

These were the flowers she loved
—In the far years;
These were the showers she loved—
—Light as her tears!
These were the hours she loved—
—Hope chasing fears!

Veiled in the lilac-rain
—Comes she—and goes. . . .

The trees they do grow high, the leaves they do grow green,
The time is long past, love, you and I have seen.
It's a cold winter's night when you and I must bide alone,
Though my bonny lad is young he's a-growing, growing,
Though my bonny lad is young he's a-growing.

"O father, dear father, you've done me much wrong;
You've married me to a boy who I fear is much too young.'
"O daughter, O daughter, if you stay at home with me,
A lady you shall be while he's growing, growing,
A lady you shall be while he's growing.'

Not that Queen Venus of adulterous fame,
Whose love was lust's insatiable flame—
Not hers the house I would be singer in
Whose loose-lipped servants seek a weary sin:
But mine the Venus of that morning flood
With all the dawn's young passion in her blood,
With great blue eyes and unpressed bosom sweet
Her would I sing, and of the shy retreat
Where Love first kissed her wondering maidenhood,
And He and She first stood, with eyes afraid,
In the most golden House that God has made.

Sweet is the solace of thy love,
My heavenly Friend, to me,
While through the hidden way of faith
I journey home with thee,
Learning by quiet thankfulness
As a dear child to be.

Oft in a dark and lonely place
I hush my hastened breath,
To hear the comfortable words
Thy loving Spirit saith;
And feel my safety in thy hand
From every kind of death.

O there is nothing in the world
To weigh against thy will;
E'en the dark times I dread the most
Thy covenant fulfil;
And when the pleasant morning dawns,
I find thee with me still.

Homer, best of bards we're told,
Says that Love is all of gold;
So if we can pay Love's fee
Doors will open easily,
Porters hurry at your call,
Watch-dogs trouble not at all;
But if you've no gold to pay
Cerberus will bar your way;
Greed is money's rule, my boy,
To rob a poor man of his joy.

O TENDER love of long ago,
O buried love, so near me still,
On tides of thought that ebb and flow,
Beyond the empire of the will;
To-night with mingled joy and pain
I fold thee to my heart again.

And down the meadows, dear, we stray,
And under woods still clothed in green,
Though many Springs have passed away
And many harvests there have been,
Since through the youth-enchanted land
We wandered idly hand in hand.

Then every brook was loud with song,
And every tree was stirred with love,
And every breeze that passed along

You pleasant floury meade
Which I did once well love
Your pathes no more I'le tread
Your pleasures noe more prove
Your beauty more admire
Your coulers more adore
Nor gras with daintiest store
Of sweets to breed desire;

Walks once soe sought for now
I shunn you for the darcke,
Birds to whose song did bow
My eares your notes nere mark;
Brooke which soe pleasing was
Upon whose banks I lay,
And on my pipe did play
Now, unreguarded pass;

Meadowes, pathes, grass, flouers
Walkes, birds, brooke, truly finde

Love, and Reason once att warr
Jove came downe to end the jarr;
Cupid said love must have place
Reason that itt was his grace.

Jove then brought itt to this end:
Reason should on love attend
Love takes reason for his guid
Reason can nott from love slide.

This agreed, they pleasd did part
Reason ruling Cupids dart
Soe as sure love can nott miss
Since that reason ruler is.

Love thy powerfull hand withdraw,
All doe yeeld unto thy law;
Rebells now thy subjects bee,
Bound they are who late were free,
Most confess thy power, and might,
All harts yeeld unto thy right;
Thoughts directed ar by thee,
Souls doe strive thy joys to see;
Pitty then, and mercy give
Unto them wher you doe live;
They your images doe prove,
In them may you see great love;
They your mirours, you theyr eye
By which they true love doe spy.
Cease awhile theyr cruell smarts
And beehold theyr yeelding harts;
Greater glory 'tis to save