WITH STRAWBERRIES.

3

In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine

of the sea:

Breath and bloom, shade and shine,-wonder, wealth, and - how far above them

Truth, that's brighter than gem,

Trust, that's purer than pearl, – Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe

for me

- all were

In the kiss of one girl.

ROBERT BROWNING.

WITH STRAWBERRIES.

WITH

strawberries we filled a

tray,

And then we drove away, away

Along the links beside the sea,

Where wave and wind were light and free,
And August felt as fresh as May.

And where the springy turf was gay
With thyme and balm and many a spray
Of wild roses, you tempted me

With strawberries.

A shadowy sail, silent and gray,
Stole like a ghost across the bay;
But none could hear me ask my fee,
And none could know what came to be.

Can sweethearts all their thirst allay

With strawberries?

WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY.

ROM

FR

THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

you

have I been absent in the spring,

When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,

That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
Yet nor the lay of birds, nor the sweet smell

Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,

Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.

"I COUNT MY TIMES BY TIMES THAT I

I

MEET THEE."

COUNT my times by times that I meet thee;

These are my yesterdays, my morrows, noons
And nights; these my old moons and my new moons.
Slow fly the hours, or fast the hours do flee,
If thou art far from or art near to me:

If thou art far, the birds' tunes are no tunes;
If thou art near, the wintry days are Junes,
Darkness is light, and sorrow cannot be.

WER WENIG SUCHT, ETC.

Thou art my dream come true, and thou my dream,
The air I breathe, the world wherein I dwell;
My journey's end thou art, and thou the way;
Thou art what I would be, yet only seem;
Thou art my heaven and thou art my hell;
Thou art my ever-living judgment day,

RICHARD WATSON GILDer.

5

WER WENIG SUCHT, DER FINDET VIEL.

Translated from Rückert.

NLY a shelter for my head I sought,

ΟΝ

One stormy winter night;

To me the blessing of my life was brought,
Making the whole world bright.

How shall I thank thee for a gift so sweet,
O dearest Heavenly Friend?

I sought a resting-place for weary feet,
And found my journey's end.

Only the latchet of a friendly door

My timid fingers tried;

A loving heart, with all its precious store,
To me was opened wide.

I asked for shelter from a passing shower, -
My sun shall always shine!

I would have sat beside the hearth an hour,
And the whole heart was mine!

LILIAN CLARKE.

THE QUEEN.

To heroism and holiness

How hard it is for man to soar,

But how much harder to be less

Than what his mistress loves him for! He does with ease what do he must,

Or lose her, and there's nought debarr'd From him who's call'd to meet her trust, And credit her desired regard.

Ah, wasteful woman, she that may

On her sweet self set her own price, Knowing he cannot choose but pay, How has she cheapen'd paradise; How given for nought her priceless gift,

How spoil'd the bread and spill'd the wine, Which spent with due, respective thrift, Had made brutes men, and men divine!

O Queen, awake to thy renown,

Require what 't is our wealth to give,
And comprehend and wear the crown
Of thy despised prerogative!

I who in manhood's name at length
With glad songs come to abdicate
The gross regality of strength,

Must yet in this thy praise abate,
That through thine erring humbleness
And disregard of thy degree,

LOVE AGAINST LOVE.

Mainly, has man been so much less
Than fits his fellowship with thee.
High thoughts had shaped the foolish brow,
The coward had grasp'd the hero's sword,
The vilest had been great, hadst thou,
Just to thyself, been worth's reward:
But lofty honours undersold

Seller and buyer both disgrace;
And favour that makes folly bold

Puts out the light in virtue's face.

COVENTRY PATMORE.

LOVE AGAINST LOVE.

7

S unto blowing roses summer dews,

As
Α

Or morning's amber to the tree-top choirs,

So to my bosom are the beams that use

To rain on me from eyes that love inspires. Your love, vouchsafe it, royal-hearted few, And I will set no common price thereon; Oh! I will keep as heaven its holy blue,

Or night her diamonds, that dear treasure won.

But aught of inward faith must I forego,

Or miss one drop from Truth's baptismal hand, Think poorer thoughts, pray cheaper prayers, and grow Less worthy trust, to meet your heart's demand? Farewell! Your wish I for your sake deny;

Rebel to love in truth to love am I.

DAVID A. WASSON.