Part 189

My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night:

My desire and thy desire Twining to a tongue of fire, Leaping live, and laughing higher;

Through the everlasting strife In the mystery of life.

Love, from whom the world begun, Hath the secret of the sun.

Love can tell, and love alone, Whence the million stars were strown, Why each atom knows its own, How, in spite of woe and death, Gay is life, and sweet is breath:

This he taught us, this we knew, Happy in his science true, Hand in hand as we stood 'Neath the shadows of the wood, Heart to heart as we lay In the dawning of the day.

Robert Bridges [1844-1930]

"O, SAW YE THE LASS"

O, saw ye the lass wi' the bonny blue een? Her smile is the sweetest that ever was seen: Her cheek like the rose is, but fresher, I ween; She's the loveliest lassie that trips on the green. The home of my love is below in the valley, Where wild-flowers welcome the wandering bee; But the sweetest of flowers in that spot that is seen Is the maid that I love wi' the bonny blue een.

When night overshadows her cot in the glen, She'll steal out to meet her loved Donald again; And when the moon shines on the valley so green, I'll welcome the lass wi' the bonny blue een. As the dove that has wandered away from his nest Returns to the mate his fond heart loves the best, I'll fly from the world's false and vanishing scene, To my dear one, the lass wi' the bonny blue een.

Richard Ryan [1796-1849]

LOVE AT SEA Imitated From Theophile Gautier

We are in love's land to-day; Where shall we go? Love, shall we start or stay, Or sail or row? There's many a wind and way, And never a May but May; We are in love's hand to-day; Where shall we go?

Our land-wind is the breath Of sorrows kissed to death And joys that were; Our ballast is a rose; Our way lies where God knows And love knows where. We are in love's hand to-day -

Our seamen are fledged Loves, Our masts are bills of doves, Our decks fine gold; Our ropes are dead maids' hair, Our stores are love-shafts fair And manifold. We are in love's land to-day -

Where shall we land you, sweet? On fields of strange men's feet, Or fields near home? Or where the fire-flowers blow, Or where the flowers of snow Or flowers of foam? We are in love's hand to-day -

Land me, she says, where love Shows but one shaft, one dove, One heart, one hand, - A shore like that, my dear, Lies where no man will steer, No maiden land.

Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]

MARY BEATON'S SONG From "Chastelard"

Between the sunset and the sea My love laid hands and lips on me; Of sweet came sour, of day came night, Of long desire came brief delight: Ah love, and what thing came of thee Between the sea-downs and the sea?

Between the sea-mark and the sea Joy grew to grief, grief grew to me; Love turned to tears, and tears to fire, And dead delight to new desire; Love's talk, love's touch there seemed to be Between the sea-sand and the sea.

Between the sundown and the sea Love watched one hour of love with me; Then down the all-golden water-ways His feet flew after yesterday's; I saw them come and saw them flee Between the sea-foam and the sea.

Between the sea-strand and the sea Love fell on sleep, sleep fell on me; The first star saw twain turn to one Between the moonrise and the sun; The next, that saw not love, saw me Between the sea-banks and the sea.

Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]

PLIGHTED

Mine to the core of the heart, my beauty! Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty: Love given willingly, full and free, Love for love's sake, - as mine to thee. Duty's a slave that keeps the keys, But Love, the master, goes in and out Of his goodly chambers with song and shout, Just as he please, - just as he please.

Mine, from the dear head's crown, brown-golden, To the silken foot that's scarce beholden; Give to a few friends hand or smile, Like a generous lady, now and awhile, But the sanctuary heart, that none dare win, Keep holiest of holiest evermore; The crowd in the aisles may watch the door, The high-priest only enters in.

Mine, my own, without doubts or terrors, With all thy goodnesses, all thy errors, Unto me and to me alone revealed, "A spring shut up, a fountain sealed." Many may praise thee, - praise mine as thine, Many may love thee, - I'll love them too; But thy heart of hearts, pure, faithful, and true, Must be mine, mine wholly, and only mine.