CXXVIII. THE CONSTANT LOVER. OUT upon it! I have loved Time shall mould away his wings E'er he shall discover, In the wide world again, Such a constant lover. But the spite on't is, no praise Love with me had made no stays, Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place. Sir John Suckling. CXXIX. LOVE'S CONFESSION. WHEN slumber first unclouds my brain, And sense refreshed renews her reign,— When next in prayer to God above Then when I pray for those I love,— And when the duties of the day To rise and journey on life's way,— Or if, perchance, I sing some lay, All that the idle verses say, They say of thee. If of an eye whose liquid light They sing, or tresses brown and bright,— And if a weary mood, or sad, Possesses me, One thought can all times make me glad,-- And when once more upon my bed, In sweet repose I lay my head,— In short, one only wish I have, Or gladly if one pang would save,— I'd die for thee. Anonymous. CXXX. EXCHANGE OF LOVE. MY HEART AND HIS. My true love hath my heart, and I have his, His heart in me keeps him and me in one; My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides: He loves my heart, for once it was his own; I cherish his because in me it bides: My true love hath my heart, and I have his. Sir Philip Sidney. CXXXI. EXCHANGE OF LOVE. WHAT THE LARK SAYS. Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove, The linnet and thrush say, "I love and I love!" And singing and loving-all come back together. The green fields below him, the blue sky above, That he sings and he sings, and for ever sings he"I love my love, and my love loves me !" Samuel Taylor Coleridge. CXXXII. LOVE'S PROTESTATION. GLORYING IN LOVE. SOME glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill, Thy love is better than high birth to me, Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost, Of more delight than hawks or horses be; And having thee, of all men's pride I boast; Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take All this away and me most wretched make. William Shakespeare. CXXXIII. LOVE'S PROTESTATION. BEING HER SLAVE. BEING your slave, what should I do but tend Nor services to do, till you require : Nor dare I chide the world-without-end-hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu : Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are, how happy you make those ;So true a fool is love, that in your will, Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. CXXXIV. William Shakespeare. LOVE'S PROTESTATION. HIS HOME OF LOVE. O NEVER say that I was false of heart, As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie; Like him that travels, I return again, H Never believe, though in my nature reigned To leave for nothing all thy sum of good : CXXXV. William Shakespeare. LOVE'S PROTESTATION. ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED. FIRST shall the heavens want starry light; Before I false my faith to thee. First shall the tops of highest hills And fish forsake the water glide, First direful Hate shall turn to Peace, And Love relent in deep disdain, And Death his fatal stroke shall cease, And Envy pity every pain, And Pleasure mourn, and Sorrow smile, Before I talk of any guile. First Time shall slay his slayless race, And Winter bless his brows with corn, And snow bemoisten July's face, And Winter, Spring, and Summer mourn, Before my pen, by help of Fame, Cease to recite thy sacred name. Thomas Lodge. |