I give more praise to Troy's redoubt
For Love kept in, than War kept out.

O Treasure-house of mercy, Thou art the one true friend.
O Lord, who else but thou can love for loving's sake alone.
Looking for no reward Thou fillest lives with every good.
Thou givest life and protection by night and day: Thou teachest the manners and ways of happiness.
In father, mother, and the friends of this world, what help is there in them?
Even my own body, when strength fails me, is powerless to aid.
Thou in death and life art the sole companion. Thy Form is love and holiness.
Thou art merciful, the giver of comfort. The Vedas sing and make known Thy praise.

A WAKE ! the dawn is on the hills!
—Behold, at her cool throat a rose,
—Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes,
Leaving her steps in daffodils.—
Awake! arise! and let me see
—Thine eyes, whose deeps epitomize
All dawns that were or are to be,
—O love, all Heaven in thine eyes!—
Awake! arise! come down to me!

Behold! the dawn is up: behold!
—How all the birds around her float,
—Wild rills of music, note on note,
Spilling the air with mellow gold.—
Arise! awake! and, drawing near,
—Let me but hear thee and rejoice!

't is said—but whether true or not
Let bards declare who 've seen 'em—
That Love and Time have only got
One pair of wings between 'em.
In courtship's first delicious hour,
The boy full oft can spare 'em;
So, loitering in his lady's bower,
He lets the gray-beard wear 'em.
Then is Time's hour of play;
Oh, how he flies, flies away!

But short the moments, short as bright,
When he the wings can borrow;
If Time to-day has had his flight,
Love takes his turn to-morrow.
Ah! Time and Love, your change is then
The saddest and most trying,

Down in a meadow fresh and gay,
Picking lilies all the day;
Picking lilies both red and blue,
I little thought what love could do.

Where love is planted there it grows,
It buds and blossoms like any rose,
It has so sweet and a pleasant smell,
No flowers on earth can it excel.

There's thousands, thousands in a room,
My love she carries the brightest bloom;
Surely she is the chosen one,
I will have her and I will have none.

I saw a ship sailing on the sea,
Loaded as deep as she could be;
But not so deep as in love I am,

Lady fair, will you not listen
To my ardent vows of love?
Love that in my eyes doth glisten,
And is firm as Heaven above.

But if you have not met and kissed
Your lonely Love's Beloved One,
Your heart's a rosebud in a mist
That has not known the sun.

And though the world be glad and loud
With all the singing joy of June,
Your soul's a lily in a cloud
That has not seen the moon.

[So lovely] even in its cry,—
What were the cuckoo if it laughed?

Within these circling Hollies Woodbine-clad
Beneath this small blue Roof of vernal Sky
How warm, how still! tho' Tears should dim mine eye,
Yet will my Heart for days continue glad--
For here, my Love! thou art! and here am I!

Lovely for youth, the look on life's lit face,
And limitless his longing
All beckonings and beguilements to embrace.
Unseen, those spectres thronging.
Marvel, the mind's emergence innocent-eyed,
Unblemished and believing,
World welcomed he, who goes without a guide
Toward wrongs beyond retrieving.