759 A Farm Walk To eye the comely milking-maid, Herself so fresh and creamy. "Good day to you!" at last I said; She turned her head to see me. "Good day!" she said, with lifted head; Her eyes looked soft and dreamy. And all the while she milked and milked I've seen grand ladies, plumed and silked, Than this in homely cotton, Whose pleasant face and silky braid I have not yet forgotten. Seven springs have passed since then, as I Count with a sober sorrow; Seven springs have come and passed me by, I've half a mind to shake myself To set my work upon the shelf, To run down by the early train, And spy the scarce-blown violet banks, Crisp primrose-leaves and others, And butt their patient mothers. Alas! one point in all my plan My serious thoughts demur to: Seven years have passed for maid and man, Seven years have passed for her too. Do Perhaps my rose is over-blown, Perhaps in farm-house of her own Where I should show a face unknown,— you Good-by, my wayside posy! Christina Georgina Rossetti [1830-1894] "DO YOU REMEMBER" remember when you heard My lips breathe love's first faltering word? You do, sweet-don't you? When, having wandered all the day, "You'll love me-won't you?" And when you blushed and could not speak, Did that affront you? Oh, surely not-your eye expressed I'm sure my eyes replied, "I will." Yes, yes! when age has made our eyes Unfit for questions or replies, You'll love me-won't you? Thomas Haynes Bayly [1797-1839] BECAUSE SWEET Nea!-for your lovely sake And can't compose my slumbers; Some witchery o'er my dreaming! Because Because we've passed some joyous days, And old Froissart's romances! Because you've got those long, soft curls, Because your little tiny nose Turns up so pert and funny; Because I know you choose your beaux Because you don't object to walk, Because I know you sometimes choose Because I think I'm just so weak 761 Because the rest's a simple thing, A matter quickly over A church-a priest-a sigh-a ring- Edward Fitzgerald [1809-1883] LOVE AND AGE From "Gryll Grange " I PLAYED with you 'mid cowslips blowing, We wandered hand in hand together; You grew a lovely roseate maiden, How dearly, words want power to show; Then other lovers came around you, I saw you then, first vows forsaking, On rank and wealth your hand bestow; And I lived on, to wed another: To Helen My own young flock, in fair progression, You grew a matron plump and comely, No merrier eyes have ever glistened Around the hearth-stone's wintry glow, Time passed. My eldest girl was married, One pet of four years old I've carried But though first love's impassioned blindness I still have thought of you with kindness, The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers 763 Thomas Love Peacock [1785-1866] TO HELEN IF wandering in a wizard's car Through yon blue ether, I were able To fashion of a little star A taper for my Helen's table; |