THE BRIDE

BEAT on the Tom-toms, and scatter the flowers, Jasmine, hibiscus, vermilion and white,

This is the day, and the Hour of Hours,

Bring forth the Bride for her Lover's delight. Maidens no more as a maiden shall claim her, Near, in his Mystery, draweth Desire. Who, if she waver a moment, shall blame her? She is a flower, and love is a fire.

Give her the anklets, the ring, and the necklace,
Darken her eyelids with delicate art,
Heighten the beauty, so youthful and fleckless,
By the Gods favored, oh, Bridegroom, thou art!
Twine in thy fingers her fingers so slender,
Circle together the Mystical Fire,

Bridegroom, a whisper,-be gentle and tender,
Choti Tinchaurya knows not desire.

Bring forth the silks and the veil that shall cover
Beauty, till yesterday careless and wild;

Red are her lips for the kiss of a lover,
Ripe are her breasts for the lips of a child.
Center and Shrine of Mysterious Power,
Chalice of Pleasure and Rose of Delight,

Shyly aware of the swift-coming hour,
Waiting the shade and the silence of night.

Still must the Bridegroom his longing dissemble,
Longing to loosen the silk-woven cord,
Ah, how his fingers will flutter and tremble,

Fingers well skilled with the bridle and sword. Thine is his valor, oh Bride, and his beauty,

Thine to possess and re-issue again, Such is thy tender and passionate duty,

Licit thy pleasure and honored thy pain.

A Marriage Charm

1165

Choti Tinchaurya, lovely and tender,

Still all unbroken to sorrow and strife,

Come to the Bridegroom who, silk-clad and slender,
Brings thee the Honor and Burden of Life.
Bidding farewell to thy light-hearted playtime,
Worship thy Lover with fear and delight;
Art thou not ever, though slave of his daytime,
Choti Tinchaurya, queen of his night?

Laurence Hope [? -1904]

A MARRIAGE CHARM

I SET a charm upon your hurrying breath,
I set a charm upon your wandering feet,
You shall not leave me-not for life, nor death,
Not even though you cease to love me, Sweet.

A woman's love nine Angels cannot bind,
Nor any rune that wind or water knows,
My heart were all as well set on the wind,
Or bound, to live or die, upon a rose.

I set a charm upon you, foot and hand,
That you and Knowledge, love, may never meet,
That you may never chance to understand
How strong you are, how weak your lover, Sweet.

I set my charm upon your kindly arm,
I set it as a seal upon your breast;
That you may never hear another's charm,
Nor guess another's gift outruns my best.

I bid your wandering footsteps me to follow,
Your thoughts to travel after in my track,
I am the sky that waits you, dear gray swallow,
No wind of mine shall ever blow you back.

I am your dream, Sweet; so no more of dreaming,
Your lips to mine must end this chanted charm,

Your heart to mine, 'neath nut-brown tresses streaming,
I set my love a seal upon your arm.

Nora Hopper [18

"LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT”

Ir's we two, it's we two, it's we two for aye,
All the world, and we two, and Heaven be our stay!
Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
All the world was Adam once, with Eve by his side.

What's the world, my lass, my love!—what can it do? I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and new. If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by; For we two have gotten leave, and once more we'll try.

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
It's we two, it's we two, happy side by side.
Take a kiss from me, thy man; now the song begins:
"All is made afresh for us, and the brave heart wins.”

When the darker days come, and no sun will shine,
Thou shalt dry my tears, lass, and I'll dry thine.
It's we two, it's we two, while the world's away,
Sitting by the golden sheaves on our wedding-day.
Jean Ingelow [1820-1897]

MY OWEN

PROUD of you, fond of you, clinging so near to you, Light is my heart now I know I am dear to you! Glad is my voice now, so free it may sing for you All the wild love that is burning within for you! Tell me once more, tell it over and over,

The tale of that eve which first saw you my lover. Now I need never blush

At my heart's hottest gush

The wife of my Owen her heart may discover!

Proud of you, fond of you, having all right in you, Quitting all else through my love and delight in you! Glad is my heart since 'tis beating so nigh to you! Light is my step for it always may fly to you!

Doris: A Pastoral

1167

Clasped in your arms where no sorrow can reach to me,
Reading your eyes till new love they shall teach to me.
Though wild and weak till now,

By that blest marriage vow,

More than the wisest know your heart shall preach to me. Ellen Mary Patrick Downing [1828-1869]

DORIS: A PASTORAL

I SAT with Doris, the shepherd maiden;
Her crook was laden with wreathèd flowers.
I sat and wooed her through sunlight wheeling,
And shadows stealing for hours and hours.

And she, my Doris, whose lap incloses

Wild summer roses of faint perfume,

The while I sued her, kept hushed and harkened
Till shades had darkened from gloss to gloom.

She touched my shoulder with fearful finger;
She said, "We linger, we must not stay;
My flock's in danger, my sheep will wander;
Behold them yonder, how far they stray!"

I answered bolder, "Nay, let me hear you,
And still be near you, and still adore!
No wolf nor stranger will touch one yearling—
Ah! stay my darling a moment more!"

She whispered, sighing, "There will be sorrow
Beyond to-morrow, if I lose to-day;
My fold unguarded, my flock unfolded—
I shall be scolded and sent away!"

Said I, denying, "If they do miss you,

They ought to kiss you when you get home;
And well rewarded by friend and neighbor
Should be the labor from which you come."

"They might remember," she answered meekly, "That lambs are weakly and sheep are wild; But if they love me it's none so fervent

I am a servant and not a child."

Then each hot ember glowed quick within me, And love did win me to swift reply:

"Ah! do but prove me, and none shall bind you, Nor fray nor find you until I die!"

She blushed and started, and stood awaiting,
As if debating in dreams divine;

But I did brave them-I told her plainly,
She doubted vainly, she must be mine.

So we, twin-hearted, from all the valley
Did rouse and rally her nibbling ewes;
And homeward drove them, we two together,
Through blooming heather and gleaming dews.

That simple duty such grace did lend her,
My Doris tender, my Doris true,
That I her warder did always bless her,
And often press her to take her due.

And now in beauty she fills my dwelling
With love excelling, and undefiled;

And love doth guard her, both fast and fervent,

No more a servant, nor yet a child.

Arthur Joseph Munby [1828

"HE'D NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN"

HE'D nothing but his violin,

I'd nothing but my song,

But we were wed when skies were blue

And summer days were long;

And when we rested by the hedge,

The robins came and told

How they had dared to woo and win,

When early Spring was cold.