Part 39

Unknown

AGAINST INDIFFERENCE

More love or more disdain I crave; Sweet, be not still indifferent: O send me quickly to my grave, Or else afford me more content! Or love or hate me more or less, For love abhors all lukewarmness.

Give me a tempest if 'twill drive Me to the place where I would be; Or if you'll have me still alive, Confess you will be kind to me. Give hopes of bliss or dig my grave: More love or more disdain I crave.

Charles Webbe [c. 1678]

A SONG TO AMORET

If I were dead, and, in my place, Some fresher youth designed To warm thee, with new fires; and grace Those arms I left behind:

Were he as faithful as the Sun, That's wedded to the Sphere; His blood as chaste and temperate run, As April's mildest tear;

Or were he rich; and, with his heap And spacious share of earth, Could make divine affection cheap, And court his golden birth;

For all these arts, I'd not believe (No! though he should be thine!), The mighty Amorist could give So rich a heart as mine!

Fortune and beauty thou might'st find, And greater men than I; But my true resolved mind They never shall come nigh.

For I not for an hour did love, Or for a day desire, But with my soul had from above This endless holy fire.

Henry Vaughan [1622-1695]

THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL

On Richmond Hill there lives a lass More bright than May-day morn, Whose charms all other maids surpass, - A rose without a thorn.

This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet, Has won my right good-will; I'd crowns resign to call her mine, Sweet lass of Richmond Hill.

Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air, And wanton through the grove, O, whisper to my charming fair, I die for her I love.

How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own! O, may her choice be fixed on me! Mine's fixed on her alone.

James Upton [1670-1749]

SONG From "Sunday Up the River"

Let my voice ring out and over the earth, Through all the grief and strife, With a golden joy in a silver mirth: Thank God for life!

Let my voice swell out through the great abyss To the azure dome above, With a chord of faith in the harp of bliss: Thank God for Love!

Let my voice thrill out beneath and above, The whole world through: O my Love and Life, O my Life and Love, Thank God for you!

James Thomson [1834-1882]

GIFTS From "Sunday Up the River"

Give a man a horse he can ride, Give a man a boat he can sail; And his rank and wealth, his strength and health, On sea nor shore shall fail.

Give a man a pipe he can smoke, Give a man a book he can read: And his home is bright with a calm delight, Though the room be poor indeed.

Give a man a girl he can love, As I, O my love, love thee; And his heart is great with the pulse of Fate, At home, on land, on sea.