The world has but one song to sing,
And it is ever new,
The first and last of all the songs
For it is ever true—
A little song, a tender song,
The only song it hath;
"There was a youth of Ascalon
Who loved a girl of Gath."
A thousand thousand years have gone,
And aeons still shall pass,
Yet shall the world forever sing
Of him who loved a lass—
An olden song, a golden song,
And sing it unafraid:
"There was a youth, once on a time,
Who dearly loved a maid."
Kendall Banning [1879-
IN PRAISE OF HER
FIRST SONG
From "Astrophel and Stella"
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast, o'ercharged, to music lendeth?
To you! to you! all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?
Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?
To you! to you! all song of praise is due;
Only for you the heaven forgat all measure.