“I sigh my soul away!”
The Lily said; “all night the moonbeams pale
Steal round and round me, whispering in their play
An all too tender tale!”
“I give my soul away!”
The Violet said; “the West wind wanders on,
The North wind comes; I know not what they say,
And yet my soul is gone!”
O Poet, burn away
Thy fervent soul! fond Lover at the feet
Of her thou lovest, sigh! dear Christian, pray,
And let the world be sweet!
Dora Greenwell.
SONG.
IF love were like a thrush’s song,
Ah me! ah me!
I’d list his tale the whole day long,
Ah me!
I’d never know how time went by,
I’d never guess that time will die;
Rapt in that living ecstasy,
Ah me! ah me!
I’d list a glorious life along
If love were but a thrush’s song.
But love is fierce and love is fain,
Ah me! ah me!
Love has one bitter sweet refrain,
Ah me!
Love knows of anguish every tone,
Love knows of joy but hope alone,
Love knows of hope that hope is flown,
Ah me! ah me!
Love! poor fierce Love, by storm winds driven,
Love is earth’s vain desire for heaven,
Ah me!
A. Stepney Gulston.
O KNIGHT, IF THOU A LADY HAST.
O KNIGHT, if thou a lady hast,
Gentle and loving, high and true,
Cling to her, live for her, die for her, too,
Swerve not from her while life shall last—
O knight, if thou a lady hast.
But if thou, knight, no lady hast,
Kind as courteous, fair as fond,
So grasp the joyless pilgrim’s wand,
Go high, go wide, go far and fast—
Till thou e’en such a lady hast.
Gertrude Hall.