And mar sometimes their brightness with a tear? The vainer and less gentle are more gay, Over the level wave they glide away, And little know what hidden rocks are near. CXXVIII. "You must give back," her mother said, To a poor sobbing little maid, "All the young man has given you, Hard as it now may seem to do." ""Tis done already, mother dear!" Said the sweet girl, 66 So, never fear." Mother. Are you quite certain? Come, recount (There was not much) the whole amount. Girl. The locket: the kid gloves. Mother. Go on. Girl. Of the kid gloves I found but one. Mother. Never mind that. What else? Proceed. You gave back all his trash? Girl. Indeed. Mother. And was there nothing you would save? Girl. Everything I could give I gave. Mother. To the last tittle? Girl. Mother. Freely? Even to that. Girl. My heart went pit-a-pat At giving up ah me! ah me! I cry so I can hardly see All the fond looks and words that past, And all the kisses, to the last. CXXIX. If you please we'll hear another Guest. Violet-eyed little maid! Maid. O it is Dian's spear, Maid. Yes; Venus is so good! I only wish she would Keep her sad boy away Who mocks at all I say. Guest. What could he then have heard? Guest. She has heard me ere now. If you repeat the vow, I will repeat it too, And that perhaps may do: Where there is only one But little can be done. Maid. Perhaps tho' you may blame. Ah me! I am all flame. Guest. With love? Maid. No, no; with shame. Guest. Each word that you repeat Will much abate the heat. Maid. Well then. . I pray. . Don't ask . . I can not bear the task. Guest. Of all the queens above Fear most the queen of love. For those alone she cares Who well repeat their prayers. Maid. O then I must, I find, (But do not look) be blind. Well, well, now! you shall hear; But don't come quite so near. PRAYER. 'Venus! I fear thy dove Is somewhere in my breast: Yes, yes, I feel him move, He will not let me rest. If he should ever go, I fancy I should sink ; He fans and wafts me so, I think.. what do I think? O Venus! thou canst tell . . 'Tis wicked to rebel!' "Twas Love: I heard him speak, But dared not turn my neck; The maid I love ne'er thought of me But when her heart or mine sank low, Ah then it was no longer so. From the slant palm she rais'd her head, And kist the cheek whence youth had fled. Angels! some future day for this, Give her as sweet and pure a kiss. CXXXI. All poets dream, and some do nothing more. The little birds (who should be in a fright, Unable at full stretch to keep And, soon as I had sank upon the grass, I saw the large and little pass All into other shapes; the great one grew Like Time; like full-grown Loves the smaller flew; Until I thought at last he reacht the skies; CXXXII. Neither the suns nor frosts of rolling years CXXXIII. Why, why repine, my pensive friend, Some the stern Fates will never lend, I see the rainbow in the sky, I see them, and I ask not why With folded arms I linger not CXXXIV. Thou whom the wandering comets guide, When hearts so generous, arms so brave, And, striking home for equal laws, CXXXV. Humblest among the vernal train, And tho' no other smiles to me, Thou smilest, here and everywhere. What name more graceful couldst thou chuse Breath'd in the mellow reed of Burns? CXXXVI. Let this man smile, and that man sigh My mild and modest country girl; Or under whitening poplars, high O'er flirting brooks, that glance and purl To attract such flowers as peer and pry, My mild and modest country girl! |