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Stood in that happy garden, guardianless.
My hands already turned towards the tree,
And in another moment we had known
The taste of joy and immortality

And been ourselves as gods. But in distress
You thrust me back with supplicating arms
And eyes of terror, till the impatient sun
Had time to set and till the heavenly host
Rushed forth on us with clarions and alarms
And cast us out for ever, blind and lost.

WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT.

CLXVII

INGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED

KNOW, Celia, since thou art so proud, 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown : Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd

Of common beauties, lived unknown, Had not my verse exhaled thy name, And with it impt the wings of Fame. That killing power is none of thine,

I give it to thy voice and eyes: Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies;
Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fix'd thee there.

Tempt me with such affrights no more,
Lest what I made I uncreate:

Let fools thy mystic forms adore,

I'll know thee in thy mortal state. Wise poets, that wrapt truth in tales,

Knew her themselves through all her veils. THOMAS CAREW.

CLXVIII

THE SCRUTINY

WHY should'st thou swear I am forsworn,

Since thine I vowed to be?

Lady, it is already morn,

And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

Have I not loved thee much and long,
A tedious twelve hours' space?
I must all other beauties wrong,

And rob thee of a new embrace,
Could I still dote upon thy face.

Not but all joy in thy brown hair
By others may be found;

But I must search the black and fair,
Like skilful mineralists that sound
For treasures in unploughed-up ground.

Then if, when I have loved my round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she,
With spoils of meaner beauties crowned
I laden will return to thee,

Ev'n sated with variety.

RICHARD LOVELACE.

CLXIX

FALSE LOVE

(THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS)

KING Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,

And one day as his lions fought sat looking on the court;

The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their

pride,

And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed :

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,

Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramp'd and roar'd the lions, with horrid laughing jaws ; They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,

Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous

smother;

The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through

the air;

Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."

De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous lively

dame

With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seem'd the same:

She thought, the Count my lover is brave as brave can

be;

He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of

me;

King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine; I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be

mine.

She dropp'd her glove, to prove his love, then look'd at him and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leapt among the lions wild :

The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regain'd

his place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

"By Heaven!" said Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat :

"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."

LEIGH HUNT.

CLXX

ON A WOMAN'S INCONSTANCY

I LOVED thee once, I'll love no more;
Thine be the grief as is the blame;
Thou art not what thou wast before,
What reason I should be the same?
He that can love, unloved again,
Hath better store of love than brain :
God send me love my debts to pay,
While unthrifts fool their love away.

Nothing could have my love o'erthrown
If thou hadst still continued mine;
Yea, if thou hadst remained thy own,
I might perchance have still been thine.
But thou thy freedom didst recall,
That it thou might'st elsewhere enthrall;
And then how could I but disdain,
A captive's captive to remain ?

When new desires had conquered thee,
And changed the object of thy will,
It had been lethargy in me,

No constancy, to love thee still.

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Yea, it had been a sin to go

And prostitute affection so,

Since we are taught no prayers to say
To such as must to others pray.

Yet do thou glory in thy choice,
Thy choice of his good fortune boast;
I'll neither grieve nor yet rejoice,
To see him gain what I have lost.
The height of my disdain shall be
To laugh at him, to blush for thee;
To love thee still, but go no more
A-begging at a beggar's door.

CLXXI

SIR ROBERT AYTON,

SONG OF GLYCINE

A SUNNY Shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold-
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!
He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled
Within that shaft of sunny mist;

His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of amethyst !

And thus he sang: "Adieu! adieu !
Love's dreams prove seldom true.
The blossoms they make no delay :
The sparkling dew-drops will not stay.
Sweet month of May,

We must away:

Far, far away!

To-day! to-day!"

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

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