Love is like understanding, that grows bright,
Gazing on many truths.
Sometimes thou seem'st not as thyself alone,
But as the meaning of all things that are.
Gather, therefore, the rose while yet is prime,
For soon comes age, that will his pride deflower :
Gather the rose of love while yet is time.
THE fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle ;-
Why not I with thine?
See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
FOR love is a celestial harmony
Of likely hearts composed of stars' consent,
Which join together in sweet sympathy,
To work each other's joy and true content,
Which they have harboured since their first descent
Out of their heavenly bowers, where they did see
And know each other here belov'd to be.
Then wrong it were that any other twain
Should in love's gentle band combinèd be,
But those whom heaven did at first ordain,
And made out of one mould the more t' agree:
For all that like the beauty which they see
Straight do not love; for love is not so light
As straight to burn at first beholder's sight.
But they which love indeed look otherwise
With pure regard and spotless true intent,
Drawing out of the object of their eyes
A more refined form, which they present
Unto their mind void of all blemishment;
Which it reducing to her first perfection,
Beholdeth free from flesh's frail infection.
And then conforming it unto the light,
Which in itself it hath remaining still,
Of that first Sun, yet sparkling in his sight,
Thereof he fashions in his higher skill
An heavenly beauty to his fancy's will;
And it embracing in his mind entire,
The mirror of his own thought doth admire.
Which seeing now so inly fair to be,
As outward it appeareth to the eye,
And with his spirit's proportion to agree,
He thereon fixeth all his fantasy,
And fully setteth his felicity;
Counting it fairer than it is indeed,
And yet indeed her fairness doth exceed.
For lovers' eyes more sharply sighted be
Than other men's, and in dear love's delight
See more than any other eyes can see,
Through mutual receipt of beamës bright,
Which carry privy message to the sprite;
And to their eyes that inmost fair display,
As plain as light discovers dawning day.
EDMUND SPENSER.
SWEET, be not proud of those two eyes,
Which starlike sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud, that you can see
All hearts your captives,―yours, yet free.
Be you not proud of that rich hair
Which wantons with the love-sick air :
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty's gone.
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