A Light Woman Or, if she thrill at words you speak, Love's memory prompts the sudden start; The rose has paled upon her cheek, The thorn has pierced her heart. ΙΟΙΙ Paul Hamilton Hayne [1830-1886] TO HER-UNSPOKEN Go to him, ah, go to him, and lift your eyes aglow to him; Fear not royally to give whatever he may claim; All your spirit's treasury scruple not to show to him. He is noble; meet him with a pride too high for shame. Say to him, ah, say to him, that soul and body sway to him; Lest you stretch your arms in vain across a starless night. Be to him, ah, be to him, the key that sets joy free to him; A LIGHT WOMAN So far as our story approaches the end, My friend was already too good to lose, And seemed in the way of improvement yet, When I saw him tangled in her toils, A shame, said I, if she adds just him And before my friend be wholly hers, So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take, The eagle am I, with my fame in the world, For see, my friend goes shaking and white; I have turned, it appears, his day to night, And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief: "Though I love her-that, he comprehendsOne should master one's passions, (love, in chief) And be loyal to one's friends!" And she, she lies in my hand as tame Just a touch to try and off it came; With no mind to eat it, that's the worst! Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist? 'Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst When I gave its stalk a twist. And I,-what I seem to my friend, you see: What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess: What I seem to myself, do you ask of me? No hero, I confess. From the Turkish 'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, 1013 One likes to show the truth for the truth; Well, anyhow, here the story stays, So far at least as I understand; And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays, Here's a subject made to your hand! Robert Browning [1812-1889] FROM THE TURKISH THE chain I gave was fair to view, The heart that offered both was true, These gifts were charmed by secret spell That chain was firm in every link, But not to bear a stranger's touch; Let him, who from thy neck unbound Who saw that lute refuse to sound, Restring the chords, renew the clasp. When thou wert changed, they altered too; 'Tis past-to them and thee adicu False heart, frail chain, and silent lute. A SUMMER WOOING THE wind went wooing the rose, For the rose was fair. How the rough wind won her, who knows? But he left her there. Far away from her grave he blows: Does the free wind care? Louise Chandler Moulton [1835-1908] BUTTERFLIES AT sixteen years she knew no care; A lover looked. She dropped her eyes Before she guessed her heart was gone; Then he forsook her one sad morn; She wept and sobbed, "Oh, love, come back!" There only came to her forlorn Butterflies all black. John Davidson (1857-1909] UNSEEN SPIRITS THE shadows lay along Broadway, "Twas near the twilight-tide, And slowly there a lady fair Was walking in her pride. "Grandmither, Think Not I Forget" 1015 Peace charmed the street beneath her feet, And Honor charmed the air; And all astir looked kind on her, And called her good as fair,— She kept with care her beauties rare For her heart was cold to all but gold, Now walking there was one more fair A slight girl, lily-pale; And she had unseen company To make the spirit quail: "Twixt Want and Scorn she walked forlorn, No mercy now can clear her brow For this world's peace to pray; For, as love's wild prayer dissolved in air, But the sin forgiven by Christ in heaven Nathaniel Parker Willis [1806-1867] "GRANDMITHER, THINK NOT I FORGET” GRANDMITHER, think not I forget, when I come back to town, An' wander the old ways again, an' tread them up and down. I never smell the clover bloom, nor see the swallows pass, Without I mind how good ye were unto a little lass. I never hear the winter rain a-pelting all night through, Without I think and mind me of how cold it falls on you. And if I come not often to your bed beneath the thyme, Mayhap 'tis that I'd change wi' ye, and gie my bed for thine, Would like to sleep in thine. |