A

With the life of Long Ago
Lived my thought of you.
By the river old and gray
Flowing his appointed way
As I watched I knew
What is so good to know :
Not in vain, not in vain,
I shall look for you again
Coming up from Richmond
On the way to Kew.

William Ernest Henley,

IS IT GOOD-BYE?

WINK from Hesper falling
Fast in the wintry sky

Comes through the even blue,
Dear, like a word from you.
Is it good-bye?

Across the miles between us

I send you sigh for sigh.
Good-night, sweet friend, good-night;
Till life and all take flight,

Never good-bye.

William Ernest Henley.

To Celia.

TO CELIA.

RINK to me only with thine eyes,

DRINK

And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup

And I'll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee
As giving it a hope that there

It could not withered be;

But thou thereon didst only breathe

And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

Not of itself, but thee!

Ben Jonson

29

THE NIGHT-PIECE.

TO JULIA.

HER eyes the glow-worm lend thee,

The shooting-stars attend thee,
And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow,

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o-th'-Wisp mislight thee,

Nor snake nor slow-worm bite thee:
But on thy way,

Not making stay,

Since ghost there's none t' affright thee!

Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?

The stars of the night

Will lend thee their light,

Like tapers clear, without number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee,

Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silvery feet,

My soul I'll pour into thee!

Robert Herrick.

On a Girdle.

31

ON A GIRDLE.

THAT which her slender waist confined

Shall now my joyful temples bind :

No monarch but would give his crown
His arms might do what this has done.

It was my heaven's extremest sphere,
The pale that held that lovely deer.
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love
Did all within this circle move.

A narrow compass! And yet there
Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair :
Give me but what this ribband bound;
Take all the rest the sun goes round.

Edmund Waller

BEFORE THE DAYBREAK.

BEFORE the daybreak shines a star

That in the day's great glory fades ;

Too fiercely bright is the full light

That her pale-gleaming lamp upbraids.

Before the daybreak sings a bird

That stills her song ere morning light :
Too loud for her is the day's stir,

The woodland's thousand-tongued delight.

Ah! great the honor is, to shine
A light wherein no traveller errs;
And rich the prize to rank divine
Among the world's loud choristers.

But I would be that paler star,

And I would be that lonelier bird,
To shine with hope, while hope's afar,

And sing of love, when love's unheard.
Francis W. Bourdillon.

FROM "THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE."

THE LOVER.

WHEN ripen'd time and chasten'd will

Have stretch'd and tuned for love's accords

The five-string'd lyre of life, until

It vibrates with the wind of words;

And "Woman," "Lady," "She," and "Her"
Are names for perfect Good and Fair,
And unknown maidens, talk'd of, stir