Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong! No later light has lightened up my heaven, No second morn has ever shone for me; 'All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given, All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee. But, when the days of golden dreams had perished, Then did I check the tears of useless passion— And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again? SONG Emily Brontë [1818-1848] THE linnet in the rocky dells, The moor-lark in the air, The bee among the heather bells The wild deer browse above her breast; I ween that, when the grave's dark wall They thought their hearts could ne'er recall Song of the Old Love They thought the tide of grief would flow Unchecked through future years; But where is all their anguish now, And where are all their tears? Well, let them fight for honor's breath, Or pleasure's shade pursue: The dweller in the land of death Is changed and careless too. And, if their eyes should watch and weep She would not, in her tranquil sleep, Blow, west-wind, by the lonely mound, There is no need of other sound To soothe my lady's dreams. 1067 Emily Brontë [1818-1848] SONG OF THE OLD LOVE From "Supper at the Mill" WHEN sparrows build, and the leaves break forth, My old sorrow wakes and cries, For I know there is dawn in the far, far north, And a scarlet sun doth rise; Like a scarlet fleece the snow-field spreads, And the icy founts run free, And the bergs begin to bow their heads, O my lost love, and my own, own love, Is there never a chink in the world above Where they listen for words from below? And now thou wilt hear me no more-no more Thou didst set thy foot on the ship, and sail Thou wert sad, for thy love did naught avail, How could I tell I should love thee to-day, How could I know I should love thee away We shall walk no more through the sodden plain We shall stand no more by the seething main We shall part no more in the wind and the rain, But perhaps I shall meet thee and know thee again When the sea gives up her dead. Jean Ingelow [1820-1897] REQUIESCAT STREW on her roses, roses, In quiet she reposes: Ah! would that I did too. Her mirth the world required: She bathed it in smiles of glee. Her life was turning, turning, Her cabined, ample Spirit, It fluttered and failed for breath. To-night it doth inherit The vasty hall of Death. Matthew Arnold [1822-1888] Four Years 1069 TOO LATE "DOWGLAS, DOWGLAS, TENDIR AND TREU" COULD ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas, I would be so faithful, so loving, Douglas, Never a scornful word should grieve ye, Oh, to call back the days that are not! I never was worthy of you, Douglas; Now all men beside seem to me like shadows- Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas, As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas, Dinah Maria Mulock Craik [1826-1887] FOUR YEARS Ar the Midsummer, when the hay was down, At the Midsummer, when the hay was down, At the Midsummer, when the hay was down, Crept she a willing bride close into my breast; Low-piled the thunder-clouds had sunk into the west, It is Midsummer-all the hay is down, Praying God shield her till we meet in Paradise, ON the Sabbath-day, BARBARA Through the churchyard old and gray, Over the crisp and yellow leaves, I held my rustling way; And amid the words of mercy, falling on my soul like balms; 'Mid the gorgeous storms of music-in the mellow organcalms, 'Mid the upward streaming prayers, and the rich and solemn psalms, I stood careless, Barbara. My heart was otherwhere While the organ shook the air, And the priest, with outspread hands, blessed the people. with a prayer; But, when rising to go homeward, with a mild and saint-like shine Gleamed a face of airy beauty with its heavenly eyes on mine Gleamed and vanished in a moment-O that face was surely thine Out of heaven, Barbara! O pallid, pallid face! O earnest eyes of grace! When last I saw thee, dearest, it was in another place. You came running forth to meet me with my love-gift on your wrist: |