CLXXII THE GUEST LIGHTS Love, the timorous bird, to dwell, And he will stay in winter too : The little clay-built house again : THOMAS ASHE. CLXXIII SEPARATION STOP!-not to me, at this bitter departing, But, if the steadfast commandment of Nature Me let no half-effaced memories cumber ! Fled, fled at once be all vestige of thee! Deep be the darkness and still be the slumberDead be the past and its phantoms to me ! Then, when we meet, and thy look strays towards me, CLXXIV TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRESS WHEN thou, poor excommunicate From all the joys of love, shalt see Which my strong faith shall purchase me, A fairer hand than thine shall cure That heart which thy false oaths did wound; Than thine shall by love's hand be bound, Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain CLXXV THOMAS CAREW. SINCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part. Nay, I have done, you get no more of me, Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over, CLXXVI A FAREWELL WITH all my will, but much against my heart, We two now part. My very Dear, Our solace is, the sad road lies so clear. It needs no art, With faint, averted feet And many a tear, In our opposed paths to persevere. Go thou to East, I West. We will not say There's any hope, it is so far away. But, O, my Best, When the one darling of our widowhead, The nursling Grief, Is dead, And no dews blur our eyes To see the peach-bloom come in evening skies, Perchance we may, Where now this night is day, And even through faith of still averted feet, Making full circle of our banishment, Amazed meet; The bitter journey to the bourn so sweet With tears of recognition never dry. COVENTRY PATMORE. |