Sad before her leaned the boy, "Goldilocks that I love well, Happy creature fair and coy, Think o' me, sweet Amabel." Like a blossom in her heart, As a gloriole sign o' grace, Goldilocks, ah fall and flow, Ah! the playtime she has known, Childhood over like a song? O MY LUVE'S LIKE A RED, RED ROSE. O MY luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O my luve's like the melodie, That's sweetly played in tune. When flowing cups run swiftly round When, linnet-like confinèd, I Stone walls do not a prison make, TO CELIA. LOVELACE. DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I'll not look for wine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, It would not withered be; BEN JONSON. THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA. HER eyes the glow-worme lend thee, And the elves also, Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. THE clouds are flying, the woods are sighing, A maiden is walking the grassy shore, And as the wave breaks with might, with might, She singeth aloud in the darksome night, But a tear is in her troubled eye. For the world feels cold, and the heart gets old, And reflects the bright aspect of Nature no more; Then take back thy child, holy Virgin, to thee! I have plucked the one blossom that hangs on earth's tree, I have lived, and have loved, and die. ANONYMOUS. Translated from Schiller. THE BRIDAL OF ANDALLA. "RISE up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down; Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town! From gay guitar and violin the silver notes are flowing, And the lovely lute doth speak between the trumpet's lordly blowing, And banners bright from lattice light are waving everywhere, And the tall, tall plume of our cousin's bridegroom floats proudly in the air. Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down; Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town! "Arise, arise, Xarifa! I see Andalla's face He bends him to the people with a calm and princely grace; Through all the land of Xeres and banks of Guadalquiver Rode forth bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely never. Yon tall plume waving o'er his brow, of purple mixed with white, I guess 'twas wreathed by Zara, whom he will wed to-night. Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down; Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town!""" The Zegri lady rose not, nor laid her cushion down, Nor came she to the window to gaze with all the town; But though her eyes dwelt on her knee, in vain her fingers strove, And though her needle pressed the silk, no flower Xarifa wove; One bonny rose-bud she had traced before the noise drew nigh That bonny bud a tear effaced, slow drooping from her eye"No, no!" she sighs-"bid me not rise, nor lay my cushion down, To gaze upon Andalla with all the gazing town!" |