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SONG.

And yet I know, past all doubting, truly
A knowledge greater than grief can dim,
I know, as he loved, he will love me duly-
Yea, better-e'en better than I loved him.

159

And as I walk by the vast calm river,
The awful river so dread to see,

I say, "Thy breadth and thy depth forever
Are bridged by his thoughts that cross to me."
JEAN INGELOW.

SONG.

Love that hath us in the net.
Can he pass, and we forget?
Many suns arise and set,
Many a chance the years beget.
Love the gift is Love the debt,
Even so.

Love is hurt with jar and fret.
Love is made a vague regret.
Eyes with idle tears are wet.
Idle habit links us yet.
What is love? for we forget:
Ah, no, no.

TENNYSON.

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

Into my heart a silent look

Flashed from thy careless eyes; And what before was shadow, took

The light of summer skies.

The first-born Love was in that look,
The Venus rose from out the deep
Of those inspiring eyes.

My life, like some lone solemn spot
A spirit passes o'er,

Grew instinct with a glory not

In earth or heaven before,

Sweet trouble stirred the haunted spot
And shook the leaves of every thought
Thy presence wandered o'er.

My being yearned, and crept to thine,
As if in times of yore

Thy soul had been a part of mine,

Which claimed it back once more

Thy very self no longer thine,
But merged in that delicious life
Which made us one of yore!

There bloomed beside thee forms as fair,
There murmured tones as sweet,
But round thee breathed the enchanted air
'Twas life and death to meet.

I WAITED TILL THE TWILIGHT. 161

And henceforth thou alone wert fair, And, though the stars had sung for joy, Thy whisper only sweet!

LORD LYTTON.

I WAITED TILL THE TWILIGHT.

I waited till the twilight,
And yet he did not come;
I strayed along the brookside,
And slowly wandered home:
When who should come behind me,
But him I would have chid;
He said he came to find me-
Do you really think he did?

He said since last we parted,
He'd thought of naught so sweet,

As of this very moment,

The moment we should meet.
He showed me where, half-shaded,
A cottage home lay hid;

He said for me he'd made it-
Do you really think he did?

He said when first he saw me,
Life seemed at once divine,
Each night he dreamed of angels,
And every face was mine;

Sometimes, a voice in sleeping,
Would all his hopes forbid;
And then he'd waken weeping-
Do you really think he did?
CHARLES SWAIN.

What need of words when lovers meet?
What need of sighs and glances sweet,
As long as faithful hearts can beat?
CHARLES SWAIN.

KISSING NO SIN.

Some say that kissing's a sin,
But I think it's nane ava-

For kissing has wonn'd in this warld
Since ever that there was twa.

O, if it wasna lawfu',
Lawyers wadna allow it;

If it wasna holy,

Ministers wadna do it.

If it wasna modest,

Maidens wadna tak' it;

If it wasna plenty,

Puir folk wadna get it.

ANONYMOUS.

THIS YEAR-NEXT YEAR.

WHEN WILL LOVE COME?
Some find Love late, some find him soon,
Some with the rose in May,
Some with the nightingale in June,

And some when skies are gray;
Love comes to some with smiling eyes,
And comes with tears to some;
For some Love sings, for some Love sighs,
For some Love's lips are dumb.
How will you come to me, fair Love?
Will you come late or soon?
With sad or smiling skies above;
By light of sun or moon?

Will you be sad, will you be sweet,
Sing, sigh, Love, or be dumb?
Will it be summer when we meet,
Or autumn ere you come?

163

PAKENHAM BEATTY.

THIS YEAR-NEXT YEAR.

This year-next year-sometime—never,
Gayly did she tell;

Rose-leaf after rose-leaf ever

Eddied round and fell.

This year and she blushed demurely;
That would be too soon;

He could wait a little, surely,
'Tis already June.

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