My Playmate The wild grapes wait us by the brook, The brown nuts on the hill, And still the May-day flowers make sweet The lilies blossom in the pond, The dark pines sing on Ramoth hill I wonder if she thinks of them, I see her face, I hear her voice: 973 I That other laps with nuts are filled, O playmate in the golden time! The old trees o'er it lean. The winds so sweet with birch and fern A sweeter memory blow; And there in spring the veeries sing The song of long ago. And still the pines of Ramoth wood 1 John Greenleaf Whittier [1807-1892] 974 A FAREWELL WITH all my will, but much against my heart, We two now part. My Very Dear, Our solace is, the sad road lies so clear It needs no art, With faint, averted feet And many a tear, In our opposed paths to persevere. Go thou to East, I West. We will not say There's any hope, it is so far away. But, O, my Best, When the one darling of our widowhead, The nursling Grief Is dead, And no dews blur our eyes To see the peach-bloom come in evening skies, Perchance we may, Where now this night is day, And even through faith of still averted feet, The bitter journey to the bourne so sweet With tears of recognition never dry. Coventry Patmore [1823-1896] DEPARTURE It was not like your great and gracious ways! Do you, that have naught other to lament, Never, my Love, repent Of how, that July afternoon, You went, With sudden, unintelligible phrase, And frightened eye, Upon your journey of so many days A Song of Parting 975 Without a single kiss, or a good-bye? I knew, indeed, that you were parting soon; You whispering to me, for your voice was weak, Well, it was well To hear you such things speak, And I could tell What made your eyes a glowing gloom of love, And it was like your great and gracious ways To let the laughter flash, Whilst I drew near, Because you spoke so low that I could scarcely hear. But all at once to leave me at the last, More at the wonder than the loss aghast, With huddled, unintelligible phrase, And frightened eye, And go your journey of all days With not one kiss, or a good-bye, And the only loveless look the look with which you passed: 'Twas all unlike your great and gracious ways. Coventry Patmore [1823-1896] A SONG OF PARTING My dear, the time has come to say The room where we looked down Upon the people going by, The river flowing fast: The innumerable shine of lamps, Our past of London days and nights, Of Love and Art and Happiness, A white hand on the mantelpiece, A shadow on the wall. My dear, what dinners we have had, In faded corners of Soho, Your fingers touching mine! There lies a crowded life ahead Framed in our window-pane. There'll be the stars on summer nights, And in the morning we shall see Welcome a day begun. For me, sweet, and for you, So let us take this tranquil path, For town, whose greatest gift to us Was to be lovers here. H. C. Compton Mackenzie [1883 Song SONG From "The Earthly Paradise' FAIR is the night, and fair the day, Now into June May falls away: Fair day! fair night! O give me back Except my Love, except my Sweet! Blow back, O wind! thou art not kind, O flowery sward! though thou art bright, Thou know'st her not, O rustling tree! Flow on, great river! thou mayst deem And Thou that men call by my name! Grow weak and pine, lie down to die, 977 |