Thy eyes shall be the heavenly lights,
Thy voice the gentle summer breeze,—
What time it sways, on moonlit nights,
The murmuring tops of leafy trees;
And I shall touch thy beauteous form
In June's red roses, rich and warm.

But thou thyself shall come not down
From that pure region far above;
But keep thy throne and wear thy crown,
Queen of my heart and queen of love!
A monarch in thy realm complete,

And I a monarch—at thy feet!

William Winter [1836

A LOVER'S ENVY

I ENVY every flower that blows
Beside the pathway where she goes,
And every bird that sings to her,
And every breeze that brings to her
The fragrance of the rose.

I envy every poet's rhyme

That moves her heart at eventime,

And every tree that wears for her
Its brightest bloom, and bears for her
The fruitage of its prime.

I envy every Southern night

That paves her path with moonbeams white, And silvers all the leaves for her,

And in their shadow weaves for her

A dream of dear delight.

I envy none whose love requires

Of her a gift, a task that tires:
I only long to live to her,

I only ask to give to her

All that her heart desires.

Henry Van Dyke (1852

WHEN sunset flows into golden glows
And the breath of the night is new,
Love, find afar eve's eager star—
That is my thought of you.

O tear-wet eye that scans the sky
Your lonely lattice through:
Choose any one, from sun to sun-
That is my thought of you.

And when you wake at the morning's break
To rival rose and dew,

The star that stays till the leaping rays—
That is my thought of you.

Ay, though by day they seem away

Beyond or cloud or blue,

From dawn to night unquenched their light

As are my thoughts of you.

Robert Underwood Johnson [1853

"MY HEART SHALL BE THY GARDEN"

My heart shall be thy garden. Come, my own,
Into thy garden; thine be happy hours
Among my fairest thoughts, my tallest flowers,
From root to crowning petal, thine alone.
Thine is the place from where the seeds are sown

Up to the sky inclosed, with all its showers.

But ah, the birds, the birds! Who shall build bowers To keep these thine? O friend, the birds have flown.

For as these come and go, and quit our pine

To follow the sweet season, or, new-comers,
Sing one song only from our alder-trees,

My heart has thoughts, which, though thine eyes hold mine,
Flit to the silent world and other summers,

With wings that dip beyond the silver seas.

Alice Meynell [1853–

AT NIGHT

HOME, home from the horizon far and clear,
Hither the soft wings sweep;

Flocks of the memories of the day draw near

The dovecote doors of sleep.

Oh which are they that come through sweetest light Of all these homing birds?

Which with the straightest and the swiftest flight? Your words to me, your words!

Alice Meynell [1853

SONG

SONG is so old,

Love is so new

Let me be still

And kneel to you.

Let me be still

And breathe no word,

Save what my warm blood
Sings unheard.

Let my warm blood

Sing low of you

Song is so fair,

Love is so new!

Hermann Hagedorn [1882–

"TWENTY YEARS HENCE"

TWENTY years hence my eyes may grow
If not quite dim, yet rather so,

Still yours from others they shall know
Twenty years hence.

The Last Word

Twenty years hence though it may hap
That I be called to take a nap

In a cool cell where thunder-clap
Was never heard,

There breathe but o'er my arch of grass

A not too sadly sighed Alas,

And I shall catch, ere you can pass,

That winged word.

653

Walter Savage Landor (1775–1864)

THE LAST WORD

WHEN I have folded up this tent
And laid the soiled thing by,
I shall go forth 'neath different stars,
Under an unknown sky.

And yet whatever house I find
Beneath the grass or snow
Will ne'er be tenantless of love
Or lack the face I know.

O lips-wild roses wet with rain!
Blown hair of drifted brown!
O passionate eyes! O panting heart-
When in that colder town

I lie, the one inhabitant,

My hands across my breast,
How warm through all eternity
The summer of my rest!

To each frail root beneath the ground
That thrusts its flower above,

I shall impart a fiercer sap—
I who have known your love!

And growing things will lean to me
To learn what love hath won,
Till I shall whisper to the dust
That secret of the Sun.

Yea, though my spirit never wake
To hear the voice I knew,
Even an endless sleep would be

Stirred by the dreams of You!

Frederic Lawrence Knowles [1869-1905)

"HEART OF MY HEART"

HEART of my heart, my life, my light!
If you were lost what should I do?
I dare not let you from my sight

Lest Death should fall in love with you.

Such countless terrors lie in wait!

The gods know well how dear you are! What if they left me desolate

And plucked and set you for their star!

Then hold me close, the gods are strong,
And perfect joy so rare a flower
No man may hope to keep it long-
And I may lose you any hour.

Then kiss me close, my star, my flower!
So shall the future grant me this:

That there was not a single hour

We might have kissed, and did not kiss!

Unknown

MY LADDIE

Он, my laddie, my laddie,
I lo'e your very plaidie,
I lo'e your very bonnet
Wi' the silver buckle on it,
I lo'e your collie Harry,

I lo'e the kent ye carry;

But oh! it's past my power to tell
How much, how much I lo'e yoursel!