--_Frederic William Henry Myers_

Romance

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.

I will make a palace fit for you and me, Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.

I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room, Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom, And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.

And this shall be for music when no one else is near, The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!

That only I remember, that only you admire, Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.

--_Robert Louis Stevenson_

Her hair the net of golden wire, Wherein my heart, led by my wandering eyes, So fast entangled is that in no wise It can, nor will, again retire; But rather will in that sweet bondage die Than break one hair to gain her liberty.

--_Thomas Bateson_

Celia's Homecoming

Maidens kilt your skirts and go Down the stormy garden-ways.

Pluck the last sweet pinks that blow, Gather roses, gather bays, Since our Celia comes to-day, That has been so long away.

Crowd her chamber with your sweets-- Not a flower but grows for her!

Make her bed with linen sheets That have lain in lavender: Light a fire before she come, Lest she find us chill at home.

Ah, what joy when Celia stands By the leaping blaze at last, Stooping low to warm her hands All benumbed with the blast, While we hide her cloak away, To a.s.sure us she shall stay!

Cyder bring and cowslip wine, Fruits and flavours from the East, Pears and pippins too, and fine Saffron loaves to make a feast; China dishes, silver cups, For the board where Celia sups!

Then, when all the feasting's done, She shall draw us round the blaze, Laugh, and tell us every one Of her far triumphant days-- Celia, out of doors a star, By the hearth a holier Lar!

--_Agnes Mary Frances Dudaux_

Love in the Valley

Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward, Couch'd with her arms behind her golden head, Knees and tresses folded to slip and ripple idly, Lies my young love sleeping in the shade.

Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her, Press her parting lips as her waist I gather slow, Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me: Then would she hold me and never let me go?

Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow, Swift as the swallow along the river's light Circleting the surface to meet his mirror'd winglets, Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight.

Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-tops, Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun, She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!

--_George Meredith_

Lucifer in Starlight

On a starr'd night Prince Lucifer uprose.

Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend Above the rolling ball in cloud part screen'd, Where sinners hugg'd their sceptre of repose.

Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.

And now upon his western wing he lean'd, Now his huge bulk o'er Afric's sands careen'd, Now the black planet shadow'd Arctic snows.

Soaring through wider zones that p.r.i.c.k'd his scars With memory of the old revolt from Awe, He reach'd a middle height, and at the stars, Which are the brain of heaven, he look'd, and sank Around the ancient track march'd, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law.

--_George Meredith_

The maid I love ne'er thought of me Amid the scenes of gaiety; But when her heart or mine sank low, Ah, then it was no longer so!

From the slant palm she rais'd her head, And kiss'd the cheek whence youth had fled.

Angels! some future day for this, Give her as sweet and pure a kiss.

--_Walter Savage Landor_

To Anthea

Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be; Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee.

A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou shalt find, That heart I'll give to thee.

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay To honour thy decree; Or bid it languish quite away, And it shalt do so for thee.

Bid me to weep, and I will weep, While I have eyes to see; And having none, yet I will keep A heart to weep for thee.

Thou art my life, my love, my heart The very eyes of me; And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee.

--_Robert Herrick_

The Fair Circa.s.sian

Forty Viziers saw I go Up to the Seraglio, Burning, each and every man, For the fair Circa.s.sian.

Ere the morn had disappear'd, Every Vizier wore a beard; Ere the afternoon was born Every Vizier came back shorn.

'Let the man that woos to win Woo with an unhairy chin:'

Thus she said, and as she bid Each devoted Vizier did.