"O Lady mine!" one day I cried,
"Pray make for me a posy,
That I may think when from your side
On your young mouth so rosy."
"Nay, gentle sir," the damsel said,
"The blossoms I deny you,
But take my willing lips instead,
If they will satisfy you!"
And then she kissed me where I stood,
And may the saints defend her—
Ne'er grew a flower in field or wood
One half so sweet and tender.
BUTTERFLY
Song
Butterfly, butterfly, where are you going?
"Over the roses into the sky."
Butterfly, butterfly, there is no knowing
When you'll come back again, so good-bye!
Butterfly, butterfly, summer is glowing,
But with the winter you too must die,
And your frail soul will be gently blowing
Upward to God on a rose's sigh.
Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly!
TO ——
Our little love is newly born,
And shall I say good-bye?
For if I go, perchance ere dawn
Our little love will die!
I'd better stay and help it grow,
Since it is yours and mine,
Until this little love we know
Becomes a love divine.
A WINDY JUNE
The wind has shaken the lilac trees,
And scattered their purple bloom,
The wind has harassed the honey bees,
And robbed the flowers of their melodies,
The wind has gathered a host of clouds,
And smitten the earth with gloom.
The wind has blown out the golden lights
That hang from laburnum boughs,
Till nude and stripped of their past delights
The branches sigh through the stormy nights,
Like nuns who weep for their buried youth,
And murmur their mournful vows.
The wind has covered the hills with mist,
And hidden my favourite view,
The wind has torn at my garden beds
Where sad young roses have hung their heads,
And ah! the pity, that one slim stem
Is withered, and snapped right through.
The wind has driven the birds afar,
The starling who reared her young
Above the door in the empty cot
Has flown away, and to-day there's not
A single twitter from hungry throats,
One minstrel, of all who sung.
The wind has stolen the warmth of June,
So how shall I pass my time?
I'll go indoors with my pen and book,
Beside the fire seek a cosy nook,
Then when I'm sure that he can't get in,
I'll write of his sins in rhyme!
HOLLYHOCKS
I saw a row of hollyhocks,
Demure and stately-tall,
They peep'd above a hedge of box,
Like maidens in brocaded frocks,
Who nodded one and all.
Some dress'd in pink, and some in white,
And some in purple blue,
They seemed abrim with gay delight,
To beckon shyly, and invite
The passer-by to view.
A mottled thrush cast bold black eyes
Upon this fair array,
He swell'd his little throat with sighs,
And tender notes of glad surprise
He sang in wistful lay.
But ne'er a stately head was turned
Towards his lonely tree,
Altho' with ardent words he burned,
Those dainty maids for whom he yearn'd
Had only smiles for me.
THE TRUTH
Oh! why is the world as it is, we ask,
With tears in our voice, and a sigh:
For nothing remains but an unfinished task,
While beauty is only hypocrisy's mask,
The end of it all—but to die.
Believe me, the world is a place full of joy,
And happiness stretches afar:
Alas! that the workings of man should destroy
The meaning of God, with the deeds they employ,
Oh! why are we all as we are?
A MOUNTAIN PATH
Alone upon the little path that led
Along the mountain-side towards the sun
I pondered o'er those passions that are dead,
I counted all your kisses one by one;
I spoke aloud the memory of each word
My heart had heard.
The scent of pines was heavy in the noon,
The air most happy with the song of streams,
Above the forest hung an early moon,
But I was gazing at my perished dreams,
And in that moment, while my soul was brave,
I dug their grave.
I folded each within a golden shroud,
Torn from the shining garments of my youth,
I did not weep, but very gently bowed
My aching spirit to the yoke of truth,
Then in the stillness of the fading day
I knelt to pray.
A PEARL NECKLACE
Go, cold white pearls, with your luring eyes,
The woman is waiting who longs to win
But the rainbow light that within you lies,
But the soft cool touch of your satin skin.
You are undefiled, and the price of sin
Has passed you by, what the heart denies
Can your whiteness, fettered and bound within
This necklet's space, ever realise?
You were snatched away from the deep, sad sea,
From the Mother's womb to the miser's pile;
You are bartered now for a phantasy,
For the hopeless hope in a woman's smile.