And the truth beholding, With a kiss divine EXCELLENT wretch! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee ! Stop my rough mouth's scolding ?Bless you, Valentine! WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. Othello. If, should times grow harder, We have lack of pelf, Little in the larder, Less upon the shelf; Will you, never tearful, Make your old gowns do, Mend my stockings, cheerful, And pay visits few ? Crave nor gift nor donor Old days ne'er regret, Seek no friend save Honour, Dread no foe but Debt; Meet ill-fortune steady, Hand to hand with mine, Like a gallant lady,— Will you, Valentine? Then, whatever weather Come, or shine, or shade, We'll set out together, You at sixty charming As at sweet sixteen: Let's pray, nothing loath, dear, That our funeral may Make one date serve both, dear, As our marriage day. AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, Thirty Years. (Macmillan.) [So] they that are to love inclined, Swayed by chance, not choice or art, To the first that's fair, or kind, Make a present of their heart; 'Tis not she that first we love, But whom dying we approve. EDMUND WALLER, SONG. As drooping fern for dewdrops, As rivers seek the ocean, As storm-worn ships their haven, JOHN TODHUNter. I HEAR thy voice, I see thy smile, I look upon thy folded hair; OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. CALIFORNIA MADRIGAL. ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING. Oн, come, my beloved! from thy winter abode, From thy home on the Yuba, thy ranch over flowed; For the waters have fallen, the winter has fled, And the river once more has returned to its bed. Oh, mark how the spring in its beauty is near! How the fences and tules once more reappear! How soft lies the mud on the banks of yon slough By the hole in the levee the waters broke through! All Nature, dear Chloris, is blooming to greet Again swings the lash on the high mountain trail, And the pipe of the packer is scenting the gale ; The oath and the jest ringing high o'er the plain, Where the smut is not always confined to the grain. Once more glares the sunlight on awning and roof, Once more the red clay's pulverized by the hoof, Once more the dust powders the "outsides" with red, Once more at the station the whiskey is spread. Then fly with me, love, ere the summer's begun, And the mercury mounts to one hundred and one; Ere the grass now so green shall be withered and sear, In the spring that obtains but one month in the year. BRET HARte. Poetical Works. (Routledge.) Now gallants gay in pride of youth, And whisper low, and she will hear. The bridal morn, when all may hear; SAMUEL LOver. (He) Oh! then when we shall have lost That shall harden all the ways, (She) No. For when the icy side Of the knap is hard as steel, And fall back from on my heel, And with steps that better hold (He) Oh! As if I wished to rub My two elbows in a crowd, And would seek a talking club To hear voices high and loud. 'Tis but you I care to see. (She) I might see you at the gate, And it might not be too late, WILLIAM BARNES. A TALK. (He) THOUGH the summer goes too soon, And the winter comes too quick, Yet the bird sings out a tune, Up above the thatched rick, And 'tis dry below the tree. So a little longer yet, Even though the sun be set, You can rove up in the grove Along with me. LOVE me, lady, dearly, If you'll be so good; Though I don't see clearly On what ground you should. C. S. CALVERLEY. Fly Leaves. (Bell.) Sure, I thought, this stately maiden. Struts her hour with dainty art, But behind this masquerading Keeps, I'll swear, a guileless heart. Let me look into thine eye, Through thine eye into thy soul, Of deep thoughts and fancies high The living-ciphered book unroll! I am sick of polished faces, Smiles tricked out for fashion's mart; Worth a thousand practised graces, Show me, show me, maid, thy heart! J. S. BLACKIE. Lyrical Poems. (D. Douglas, Edinburgh.) SELF-EVIDENT. WHEN other lips and other eyes You've heard from many a swell; When, bored with what you feel is bosh, You'd give the world to see A friend whose love you know will wash, O, then remember me ! When Signor Solo goes his tours, J. R. PLANCHÉ. Songs and Poems. (Chatto and Windus.) www LET ME LOOK INTO THINE EYE! LET me look into thine eye, Looks that play a pretty part, When in gay saloon I found thee Sailing proudly, like a queen, Through the fair and flaunting scene; YOUR eyes, my love, are brightly blue, H. S. LEIGH. (British and Colonial Publishing Co.) LOVE AND NURSING. (From "The Widow Mysie.") O HEAVEN! in what strange Enchanter's den Learnt she the spells wherewith she conquer'd men? When to that chamber she had won her way, Better and better every day grew he, ROBERT BUCHANAN. I LOVE the broad bright world of snow, And every strange device Which makes the woods a frozen show, The rivers hard and still; but oh, Ne'er loved a heart of ice! T. B. READ. UPON A DELAYING LADY. COME, Come away, Or let me go ; Must I here stay I scorn to be A slave to state; And since I'm free, I will not wait, If you desire My spark should glow, The peeping fire You must blow; Or I shall quickly grow To frost, or snow. ROBERT HERRICK. LET not you and I inquire What has been our past desire; For the joys we now may prove, EDMUND WALLER. LINES SUGGESTED BY THE FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY. ERE the morn the East has crimsoned, When the stars are twinkling there, (As they did in Watts's hymns, and Made him wonder what they were :) When the forest-nymphs are beading Fern and flower with silvery dew-My infallible proceeding Is to wake, and think of you. When the hunter's ringing bugle Meal of gravy-soup and chops: Fly my thoughts to you again. May my dreams be granted never? In our wildest works of fiction? When he hadn't been to school yetBut their loves were cold to mine. Give me hope, the least, the dimmest, NOT to make that arsenic up! C. S. CALVERLEY. Verses and Translations. (Deighton, Bell, and Co.) [By kind permission of the Author, and of Messrs. Deighton, Bell, and Co.] But should that bliss be still denied, Still fortune frown above me, Thou'lt be my choice-though not my bride, Then love me, dearest! Love me! SAMUEL LOVER. Poetical Works. (Routledge.) "Love not! love not!" ah, false song! Oh, but 'tis the spelling's wrong! Viewed with K before the N Everything is altered then! K left out, the "not," you'll find, N ever could be one to bind ! Oh, these words of ours! why not Turn the "love not!" to "love-knot"? No sentiments in which we were not sharers Pluto and Proserpine. (French.) Pluto (embarrassed). In the Isle of Skye. Thy days all cloudless sunshine shall remain, A SENSIBLE LOVER. I NEVER-never did desire A maiden blest with "eyes of fire ;" I never did a liking show For maid whose "bosom was of snow ;" I never be the truth revealed- The maid whose brow is "ivory white" I don't like ivory in wives. One taste I with the poets share- My notion of a girl is this- Or fire, or peach, or cherry!-No! THOMAS HOOD THE YOUNGER. |