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LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG.
with baleful anilor ban. can breath, that erst puta nany a white hand bolsa: uters' hearts to dust one.
ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN 1569.
al brows there's nangbt es e but empty cells for a he Siren's hair would ly strangled in the tide
instead of Beauty's bus er heart, a loral mind
th temptation I would re Ter linked with error bad
Nature did her so much right
As she scorns the help of art.
As e'er yet embraced a heart.
To make known how much she hath ; And her anger flames no higher
Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
And her virtues grace her birth;
Modest in her most of mirth. Likelihood enough to prove Only worth could kindle love. Such she is; and if you know
Such a one as I have sung ;
That she be but somewhat young;
Rose gentle bosom ) our my secret heart of TA are-burdened hones-fy les his murmurs in the E.
Comforter! those lote Crasible might be n my spirit wonned abortion uld not stay, for symmetry
Love me little, love me long!
Burneth soon to waste.
Fadeth not in haste.
For I fear the end.
To be steadfast, friend.
While that life endures; Nay, and after death, in sooth, I to thee will keep my truth, As now when in my May of youth:
This my love assures. Constant love is moderate ever, And it will through life persever ; Give me that with true endeavor,
I will it restore. A suit of durance let it be, For all weathers, — that for me, For the land or for the sea :
Lasting evermore. Winter's cold or summer's heat, Autumn's tempests on it beat; It can never know defeat,
Never can rebel : Such the love that I would gain, Such the love, I tell thee plain, Thou must give, or woo in vain :
So to thee — farewell !
JAMES GRAHAM, Erik
HE that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Fuel to maintain his fires ;
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires : Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
tell you whom I lore! en then awhile to me; ch a woman more or shall versify, d 't is she or none, Te, and love alone.
SHALL I love you like the wind, love,
That is so fierce and strong, That sweeps all barriers from its path
And recks not right or wrong? The passion of the wind, love,
Can never last for long.
You never give a look, not you,
Nor drop him a “Good morning," To keep his long day warm and blue,
So fretted by your scorning.
She shook her head : “ The mouse and bee
For crumb or flower will linger; The dog is happy at my knee,
The cat purrs at my finger.
Her pedigree -- good sooth, 't is long !
Her grim sires stare from every wall ;
As meek she gliiles through Moreton Hall. Whilst I have — nothing ; save, perhaps,
Some worthless heaps of idle gold
Therefore they say her heart was sold !
Laugh as we ride 'neath chestnuts tall,
At the fair maid of Moreton Hall;
But he ... to him, the least thing given
Means great things at a distance ; He wants my world, my sun, my heaven,
Soul, body, whole existence.
“They say love gives as well as takes ;
But I'm a simple maiden, My mother's first smile when she wakes
I still have smiled and prayed in.
We let the neighbors talk their fill,
For life is sweet, and love is strong, And two, close knit in marriage ties, The whole world's shams may well despise,
Its folly, madness, shame, and wrong.
“I only know my mother's love
Which gives all and asks nothing,
That thou hast kept a portion back,
While I have staked the whole,
That mine cannot fulfil ?
Could better wake or still ?
The demon-spirit, change,
On all things new and strange ?
heart against thine own. Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day
And answer to my claim,
Not thou, — had been to blame?
The words would come too late ; Yet I would spare thee all remorse,
So comfort thee, my fate : Whatever on my heart may fall, Remember, I would risk it all!
XII. “Such love's a cowslip-ball to fling,
A moment's pretty pastime; I give ... all me, if anything,
The first time and the last time.
“Dear neighbor of the trellised house,
A man should murmur never, Though treated worse than dog and mouse,
Till doted on forever !"
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.
A WOMAN'S QUESTION.
THE LADY'S “YES."
BEFORE I trust my fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine, Before I let thy future give
Color and form to mine, Before I peril all for thee, Question thy soul to-night for me.
I break all slighter bonds, nor feel
A shadow of regret :
That holds thy spirit yet ?
A possible future shine,
Untouched, unshared by mine? If so, at any pain or cost, 0, tell me before all is lost !
“Yes," I answered you last night ;
"No," this morning, sir, I say. Colors seen by candle-light
Will not look the same by day. When the viols played their best,
Lamps above, and laughs below, Love me sounded like a jest,
Fit for yes or fit for no. Call me false or call me free,
Vow, whatever light may shine, No man on your face shall see
Any grief for change on mine. Yet the sin is on us both ;
Time to dance is not to woo ; Wooing light makes fickle troth
Scorn of me recoils on you. Learn to win a lady's faith
Nobly, as the thing is high, Bravely, as for life and death,
With a loyal gravity.
GIVE ME MORE LOVE OR MORE
Lead her from the festive boards,
Point her to the starry skies,
Pure from courtship’s flatteries.
By your truth she shall be true,
Ever true, as wives of yore ;
SHALL be Yes forevermore.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
Give me more love or more disdain ;
The torrid or the frozen zone
The temperate affords me none;
Like Danae in a golden shower,
Disdain, that torrent will devour
BECAUSE I breathe not love to everie one,
Nor do not use set colors for to weare,
Nor nourish special locks of wowed haire,
Of them who on their lips Love's standard beare,
FROM “AS YOU LIKE IT."
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
He cannot love: No, no! let him alone."
THINK not I love him, though I ask for him ; And think so still, — if Stella know my minde. "T is but a peevish boy : — yet he talks well ;
But what care I for words ? — yet words do well, Profess, indeed, I do not Cupid's art ;
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. But you, faire maids, at length this true shall But, sure, he's proud ; and yet his pride becomes
finde, That his right badge is but worne in the hearte. He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him Dumb swans, not chattering pies, do lovers Is his complexion ; and faster than his tongue prove :
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
His leg is but so so; and yet 't is well :
A little riper and more lusty red
difference NEVER wedding, ever wooing,
Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. Still a love-lorn heart pursuing,
There be some women, Silvius, had they marked Read you not the wrong you 're doing
him In my cheek's pale hue ?
In parcels, as I did, would have gone near All my life with sorrow strewing,
To fall in love with him : but, for my part, Wed, or cease to woo.
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him : Rivals banished, bosoms plighted,
For what had he to do to chide at me! Still our days are disunited ;
He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black; Now the lamp of hope is lighted,
And, now I am remembered, scorned at me : Now half quenched appears,
I marvel, why I answered not again : Damped and wavering and benighted
But that's all one ; omittance is no quittance. Midst my sighs and tears.
Charms you call your dearest blessing,
Soon you 'll make them grow
Not with age, but woe !
THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION.
SHALL I, wasting in despair,
Shall a woman's virtues move
If she be not such to me,
'Cause her fortune seems too high,
And unless that mind I see,
And if I sleep, then pierceth he
With pretty slight,
The livelong night;
Ah ! wanton, will you ? Else I with roses every day
Will whip you hence, And bind you when you long to play,
For your offence; I'll shut my eyes to keep you in, I'll make you fast it for your sin, I'll count your power not worth a pin, Alas! what hereby shall I win
If he gainsay me!
What if I beat the wanton boy
With many a rod,
Because a god ;
Spare not, but play thee.
LET NOT WOMAN E'ER COMPLAIN.
LET not woman e'er complain
Of inconstancy in love ; Let not woman e'er complain
Fickle man is apt to rove ; Look abroad through Nature's range, Nature's mighty law is change ; Ladies, would it not be strange
Man should then a monster prove ?
CUPID AND CAMPASPE.
Mark the winds, and mark the skies ;
Ocean's ebb and ocean's flow; Sun and moon but set to rise,
Round and round the seasons go.
CUPID and my Campaspe played