There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear ; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, " I wait." She is coming, my own, my sweet; Would start and tremble under her feet, Alfred Tennyson. LXXXII. LOVE'S GOOD-NIGHT. GOOD-NIGHT? Ah, no! the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still,— Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night good, To hearts which near each other move Percy Bysshe Shelley. LXXXIII. LOVE'S DISSEMBLING. THE merchant, to secure his treasure, My softest verse, my darling lyre That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise, But with my numbers mix my sighs; And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes. Fair Cloe blushed: Euphelia frowned: I sung, and gazed; I played, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around Remarked how ill we all dissembled. Matthew Prior. LXXXIV. LOVE'S APRIL DAY. THE lovely Delia smiles again ; That killing frown has left her brow; Can she forgive my jealous pain, And give me back my angry vow? Love is an April's doubtful day: F The flowers that hung their languid head The sprightly birds, that drooped no less The joy I feel when thou art kind. William Shenstone. LXXXV. LOVE'S EXCUSE. BLAME me not, love, that I do wear An ever-changing hue; You are my sunshine, and I bear Do not your lover, love, upbraid The heaven itself is not more staid, I am your instrument, dear love; And if the tone be jarred, Those springs which should in concord move Are touched amiss and marred. William Caldwell Roscoe. LXXXVI. LOVE'S SUNSHINE AFTER STORM. LET'S contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before, Love, - Only sleep! What so wild as words are? I and thou In debate, as birds are, Hawk on bough! See the creature stalking While we speak! Hush and hide the talking, Cheek on cheek! What so false as truth is, False to thee? Where the serpent's tooth is, Shun the tree Where the apple reddens Never pry Lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I. Be a god and hold me With a charm! Be a man and fold me With thine arm ! Teach me, only teach, Love! As I ought I will speak thy speech, Love, Think thy thought Meet, if thou require it, Both demands, Laying flesh and spirit In thy hands. That shall be to-morrow, Not to-night; I must bury sorrow Out of sight: - Must a little weep, Love, And so fall asleep, Love, Loved by thee. Robert Browning. LXXXVII. LOVE'S RECONCILEMENT. COME, let us now resolve at last The truest joys they seldom prove When least I seemed concerned, I took No pleasure, nor no rest; And when I feigned an angry look, Alas! I loved you best. Own but the same to me, you'll find How blest will be our fate; Oh, to be happy, to be kind, Sure never is too late! John, Duke of Buckingham. LXXXVIII. LOVE'S EXCHANGE. O, LIPS that mine have grown into, O, fervent eyelids, letting through |