THE NYMPH'S SONG TO HYLAS From "The Life and Death of Jason " I KNOW a little garden-close And though within it no birds sing, There comes a murmur from the shore, For which I cry both day and night, Yet tottering as I am, and weak, An entrance to that happy place; To seek the unforgotten face Once seen, once kissed, once reft from me Anigh the murmuring of the sea. William Morris [1834-1896] And please myself with choice of bliss, Your lips, as smooth and tender, child, If fate bade choose some sweet unrest, And golden ripple of her hair"; Contented to be thus beguiled. 875 Thomas Ashe [1836-1889] LOVE IN DREAMS LOVE hath his poppy-wreath, Not Night alone. I laid my head beneath Love's lilied throne: Then to my sleep he brought This anodyne The flower of many a thought And fancy fine: A form, a face, no more; Fairer than truth; A dream from death's pale shore; The soul of youth: A dream so dear, so deep, All dreams above, That still I pray to sleep→ Bring Love back, Love! John Addington Symonds [1840–1893] "A LITTLE WHILE I FAIN WOULD LINGER YET" A LITTLE While (my life is almost set!) I fain would pause along the downward way, While, Sweet! our eyes with tender tears are wet: A little hour I fain would linger yet. A little while I fain would linger yet, All for love's sake, for love that cannot tire; A little while I fain would linger here: Behold! who knows what strange, mysterious bars A little while I yearn to hold thee fast, Hand locked in hand, and loyal heart to heart; (O pitying Christ! those woeful words, "We part!") So, ere the darkness fall, the light be past, A little while I fain would hold thee fast. A little while, when light and twilight meet,- A little while I fain would linger here; Behold! who knows what soul-dividing bars Earth's faithful loves may part in other stars? Nor can love deem the face of death is fair: A little while I still would linger here. Paul Hamilton Hayne [1830-1886] SONG I MADE another garden, yea, For my new Love: I left the dead rose where it lay And set the new above. Song Why did my Summer not begin? My old Love came and walked therein, She entered with her weary smile, She looked around a little while And shivered with the cold: Her passing touch was death to all, Her pale robe clinging to the grass That bit the grass and ground, alas! She went up slowly to the gate, She turned back at the last to wait And say farewell once more. 877 Arthur O'Shaughnessy [1844-1881] SONG HAS summer come without the rose, Or left the bird behind? Is the blue changed above thee, O world! or am I blind? Will you change every flower that grows, Where she who said, I love thee, Now says, I love thee not? The skies seemed true above thee, The bird seemed true the summer through, World! is there one good thing in you, Since lips that sang, I love thee, I think the sun's kiss will scarce fall Wild grass, have you forgot Be false or fair above me, Come back with any face, You cannot change one place---- Here, where she used to love me, Arthur O'Shaughnessy [1844–1881] AFTER A LITTLE time for laughter, A little time to sing, A little time to kiss and cling, And no more kissing after. A little while for scheming A little while 'twas given To me to have thy love; Now, like a ghost, alone I move |