Arthur Symons.
A poor cicala, piping shrill,
I may not ape the Nightingale,
I sit upon the sun-browned hill,
A poor cicala, piping shrill
When summer noon is warm and still,
Content to chirp my homely tale;
A poor cicala piping shrill,
I may not ape the Nightingale.
Graham R. Tomson.
THREE TRIOLETS.
I.
Love's footsteps shall not fail nor faint,
He will not leave our hearth again:
So safely lulled his murmuring plaint,
Love's footsteps shall not fail nor faint;
All clasped and bound in fond constraint,
And circled with a shining chain,
Love's footsteps shall not fail nor faint,
He will not leave our hearth again.
II.
Your rose-red bonds are all in vain,
If bound Love weep for weariness:
His faded eyes are drowned in rain.
Your rose-red bonds are all in vain,
He murmurs low a dull refrain,
And turns his lips from our caress-
Your rose-red bonds are all in vain
If bound Love weep for weariness!