Part 9

A viewless thing is the wind, But its strength is mightier far Than a phalanxed host in battle line, Than the limbs of a Samson are.

And a viewless thing is Love, And a name that vanisheth; But her strength is the wind's wild strength above, For she conquers shame and Death.

Richard Burton [1861-

"LOVE ONCE WAS LIKE AN APRIL DAWN"

Love once was like an April dawn: Song throbbed within the heart by rote, And every tint of rose or fawn Was greeted by a joyous note. How eager was my thought to see Into that morning mystery!

Love now is like an August noon, No spot is empty of its shine; The sun makes silence seem a boon, And not a voice so dumb as mine. Yet with what words I'd welcome thee - Couldst thou return, dear mystery!

Robert Underwood Johnson [1853-

THE GARDEN OF SHADOW

Love heeds no more the sighing of the wind Against the perfect flowers: thy garden's close Is grown a wilderness, where none shall find One strayed, last petal of one last year's rose.

O bright, bright hair! O mouth like a ripe fruit! Can famine be so nigh to harvesting? Love, that was songful, with a broken lute In grass of graveyards goeth murmuring.

Let the wind blow against the perfect flowers, And all thy garden change and glow with spring: Love is grown blind with no more count of hours Nor part in seed-time nor in harvesting.

Ernest Dowson [1867-1900]

THE CALL

Love comes laughing up the valleys, Hand in hand with hoyden Spring; All the Flower-People nodding, All the Feathered-Folk a-wing.

"Higher! Higher!" call the thrushes; "Wilder! Freer!" breathe the trees; And the purple mountains beckon Upward to their mysteries.

Always farther leagues to wander, Peak to peak and slope to slope; Lips to sing and feet to follow, Eyes to dream and heart to hope!

Tarry? Nay, but who can tarry? All the world is on the wing; Love comes laughing up the valleys, Hand in hand with hoyden Spring.

Reginald Wright Kauffman [1877-

THE HIGHWAY

All day long on the highway The King's fleet couriers ride; You may hear the tread of their horses sped Over the country side. They ride for life and they ride for death And they override who tarrieth. With show of color and flush of pride They stir the dust on the highway.

Let them ride on the highway wide. Love walks in little paths aside.

All day long on the highway Is a tramp of an army's feet; You may see them go in a marshaled row With the tale of their arms complete: They march for war and they march for peace, For the lust of gold and fame's increase, For victories sadder than defeat They raise the dust on the highway.

All the armies of earth defied, Love dwells in little paths aside.

All day long on the highway Rushes an eager band, With straining eyes for a worthless prize That slips from the grasp like sand. And men leave blood where their feet have stood And bow them down unto brass and wood - Idols fashioned by their own hand - Blind in the dust of the highway.

Power and gold and fame denied, Love laughs glad in the paths aside.

Louise Driscoll [1875-

SONG

Take it, love! 'Twill soon be over, With the thickening of the clover, With the calling of the plover, Take it, take it, lover.