Refuge But we hae yon heaven sae bonnie and blue, The breezes of health, and the valleys of dew- 1143 James Hogg (1770-1835] THE BEGGAR MAID HER arms across her breast she laid; 1 She was more fair than words can say: In robe and crown the king stepped down, As shines the moon in clouded skies, So sweet a face, such angel grace, In all that land had never been: Cophetua sware a royal oath: "This beggar maid shall be my queen!". Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892] REFUGE TWILIGHT, a timid fawn, went glimmering by, We watched together while the driven fawn We, from whose hearts pursuit and flight were gone, A. E. (George William Russell) (1867– AT SUNSET CLASP her and hold her and love her, Clasp her and hold her and love her, Flowers of dream enfold her. Clasp her and love her and hold her, Clasp her and hold and love. Louis V. Ledoux (1880 "ONE MORNING, OH! SO EARLY" ONE morning, oh! so early, my beloved, my beloved, All the birds were singing blithely, as if never they would cease; 'Twas a thrush sang in my garden, "Hear the story, hear the story!" And the lark sang, "Give us glory!" And the dove said, "Give us peace!" Then I hearkened, oh! so early, my belovèd, my beloved, To that murmur from the woodland of the dove, my dear, the dove; When the nightingale came after, "Give us fame to sweeten duty!" When the wren sang, "Give us beauty!" She made answer, "Give us love!" Sweet is spring, and sweet the morning, my beloved, my beloved; Now for us doth spring, doth morning, wait upon the year's increase, May Margaret 1145 And my prayer goes up, "Oh, give us, crowned in youth with marriage glory, Give for all our life's dear story, Give us love, and give us peace!" Jean Ingelow [1820-1897] ACROSS THE DOOR THE fiddles were playing and playing, Ah! strange were the dim, wide meadows, The hawthorn bloom was by us, Around us the breath of the south. White hawthorn, strange in the night-time— His kiss on my mouth! Padraic Colum [1881 MAY MARGARET IF you be that May Margaret That lived on Kendal Green, That crowned you like a queen? That sunny hair is dim, lad, They said was like a crown— If you be yet May Margaret, May Margaret now as then, Then where's that bonny smile of yours The bonny smile is wan, lad, If you be that May Margaret, Then where's that proud, cold heart of yours That sent your love to sea? Ah, me! that heart is broken, The proud, cold heart has bled Then Margaret, my Margaret, Your hair is yet the sunniest gold, For all the coming years— The fairer for the waiting, The dearer for the tears! ་ Théophile Marzials [1850 RONDEL KISSING her hair, I sat against her feet, Wove and unwove it, wound and found it sweet; Made fast therewith her hands, drew down her eyes, Deep as deep flowers and dreamy like dim skies; With her own tresses bound and found her fair, Kissing her hair. Sleep were no sweeter than her face to me, Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1900] Brought to us its great Spring surprise; While we saw all things through cach other's eyes. And sometimes from a steep hillside Shone fair and bright The shadbush, like a young June bride, Fresh clothed in white. Sometimes came glimpses glad of the blue sca; The violets made a field one mass of blue Even bluer than the sky; The little brook took on that color too, And sang more merrily. "Your dress is blue," he laughing said. "Your eyes," My heart sang, "sweeter than the bending skies." We spoke of poets dead so long ago, And their wise words; We glanced at apple-trees, like drifted snow; We watched the nesting birds, Only a moment! Ah, how short the day! Yet all the winters cannot blow its sweetness quite away. Alice Freeman Palmer [1855-1902] THE BROOKSIDE I WANDERED by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow,~ The noisy wheel was still; There was no burr of grasshopper, No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. |