Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight, Unto the silly damsel, But one must be refused: more mickle was the pain, Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day, Unknown "I ASKED MY FAIR, ONE HAPPY DAY” AFTER LESSING I ASKED my fair, one happy day, What I should call her in my lay; By what sweet name from Rome or Greece; Lalage, Neæra, Chloris, Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris, Arethusa or Lucrece. “Beloved, what are names but air? Choose thou whatever suits the line; i Only only call me thine." Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834] THE EXCHANGE WE pledged our hearts, my love and I,→→→ I in my arms the maiden clasping: 'I could not tell the reason why, But oh! I trembled like an aspen. "Green Grow the Rashes, O!" Her father's love she bade me gain; We had exchanged our hearts indeed. 727 Samuel Taylor Coleridge [1772-1834] "COMIN' THROUGH THE RYE' COMIN' through the rye, poor body, She draiglet a' her petticoatie, Comin' through the rye. ! Oh Jenny's a' wat poor body, She draiglet a' her petticoatie, Gin a body meet a body, Gin a body meet a body Need the warld ken? Robert Burns [1759-1796] "GREEN GROW THE RASHES, O!" THERE'S naught but care on every han', Green grow the rashes, O! The warl❜ly race may riches chase, An' though at last they catch them fast, Gie me a canny hour at e'en; For you sae douce, ye sneer at this; Auld Nature swears the lovely dears Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, Robert Burns [1759-1796] DEFIANCE CATCH her and hold her if you can- She reached the porch and closed the door? That girls and time will not return; Of each you should have made the most; In vain your knuckles knock your brow, Walter Savage Landor [1775–1864) "The Time I've Lost in Wooing" 729 OF CLEMENTINA IN Clementina's artless mien Lucilla asks, if that be all, Have I not culled as sweet before: Ah yes, Lucilla! and their fall I still deplore. I now behold another scene, Where Pleasure beams with Heaven's own light, Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose, In woman's eyes, Has been my heart's undoing. Though Wisdom oft has sought me, I scorned the lore she brought me,- : My only books Were women's looks, And folly's all they taught me. Her smile when Beauty granted, Like him the sprite Whom maids by night Oft meet in glen that's haunted. Was turned away, O! winds could not outrun me. And are those follies going? For brilliant eyes Poor Wisdom's chance Against a glance Is now as weak as ever. Thomas Moore [1779-1852] DEAR FANNY "SHE has beauty, but you must keep your heart cool; She has wit, but you mustn't be caught so": Thus Reason advises, but Reason's a fool, And 'tis not the first time I have thought so, Dear Fanny, 'Tis not the first time I have thought so. "She is lovely; then love her, nor let the bliss fly; "Tis the charm of youth's vanishing season"; Thus Love has advised me, and who will deny That Love reasons better than Reason, Dear Fanny Love reasons much better than Reason. Thomas Moore [1779–1852] |