A CONCEIT. Oh, touch that rosebud! it will bloom- A passionate red in dim green gloom, That sleeps in air. You touched my heart; it gave a thrill That opens at a lady's will; You bid it close. MORTIMER COLLINS. MY KING. You are all that I have to live for, All that the whole world holds for me, You came, and it seemed too mighty For my human heart to hold, It seemed in its sacred glory Like a glimpse through the gates of gold, Like a life in the primal Eden, Created and formed anew— This charm of a perfect manhood That I realize in you. MY KING. God created me a woman As the heavens over you. 185 And you are mine till your Maker calls you, Your soul and your body, Sweet! Your breath and the whole of your being, From your kingly head to your feet; Your eyes and the light that is in them, Your lips with their maddening wine, Your arms with their passionate clasp, my king, Your body and soul are mine! No power whatsoever, No will but God's alone, Can take you from my keeping, I know not when, if ever, I know not where, or how, Death's hand may try the fetters That bind me here and now; But some day, when God beckons, Where rise His fronded palms, My soul shall cross the river, And lay you in His arms; Forever and forever Beyond the silent sea, You will rest in the Arms Eternal, DO YOU? Do you feel sometimes in your dreaming On your lips in passion impressed? Do you hold me sometimes in your dreaming Does my hand with its lingering caresses Though light as the fall of a rose leaf, You'd feel the sweet weight of my kiss, Ah! never again shall I see you, Nor look in your proud grand face, Ne'er feel the sweet balm of your kisses, Or thrill to your tender embrace. PLATONIC. For our lives lie asunder forever, More wide than the cruel sea, But I love you! I love you! I love you! PLATONIC. I knew it the first of the summer- There was never a word of nonsense Though we lingered oft in the garden But our talks were tinctured with science, "A wholly platonic friendship," You said I had proved to you, "Could bind a man and a woman The whole long season through, 187 With never a hint of folly, Though both are in their youth." What would you have said, my lady, If you had known the truth? Had I done what my mad heart prompted- My story of hopeless loving Say, would you have thought it wrong? But I fought with my heart, and conqueredI hid my wound from sight; You were going away in the morning, And I said a calm good-night. But now, when I sit in the twilight, And a passionate longing fills me, For the roses, the dusk, and the dewFor the beautiful summer vanished For the moonlit talks-and you. |