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We felt our pulses flutter,
But not a word did utter;

We were too happy so.
I felt, but nothing said I,
We knew the whole already;
What could we wish to know?

No longing could torment us,
For all things had been sent us;
Our hearts were full of bliss.
Two sweet eyes sent their greeting,
And four warm lips were meeting,
In one too happy kiss.




Let mine eyes the farewell speak, love,
For my lips they never can!
Though my heavy heart may break, love,
I must bear it as a man.

Sad becomes in such an hour

Sweetest pledge and accents bland,
Cold thy kiss, and feeble power
In the pressure of thy hand.

Othertimes a kiss was rapture,
If our lips a moment met,
A rejoicing like the capture
Of the rare March violet.

Now no more of garlands any,
No more roses, give I thee,
Spring it is, my darling Fanny,
But sad autumn unto me!



Pack clouds away, and welcome day,
With might we banish sorrow;
Sweet air blow soft, mount lark aloft,
To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark, I'll borrow;
Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing;
To give my love good-morrow.

To give my love good-morrow

Notes from them all I'll borrow.

Wake from thy nest, robin-redbreast,
Sing birds in every furrow;
And from each bill, let music shrill,
Give my fair love good-morrow.
Blackbird and thrush, in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow;
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,
Sing birds in every furrow.





Love said, "A beauty not of earth but heaven,
Still seek in thy beloved's glances bright;
For love to man as his best strength is given,
A guiding star, not a false, wandering light,”

Love said, "In the sweet eyes where thou dost


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Pure light, not flame, there shalt thou seek thy


So a clear lamp to light thy path shall be,
No wasting fire thy heart to desolate."

Love said, "This blessing to thy life is given,

To draw thy heart from things of little worth; Wings shall it give, to lift thy heart to heaven, Not chains to hold it closer to the earth."



Harsh voices said to her, "He loves thee not; He trifles with thee." Then she drooped her head,

And to her eyes the tears came thick and hot,

And yet in secret were those salt tears shed. Alas, that she believed that cruel word!

For when he came, her face was turned away;

And then with scorn, and pride his heart was stirred,

And with forced mirth he went his lonely way.

An angel ever whispered in her heart,

"Thy love is true; only reach forth thy hand!" And while in bitterness he stood apart,

The same sweet pleading must his heart withstand;

She loves thee well, she is thy destined bride; Speak but one tender word, the spell is broken!"

Day after day they met-O sinful pride!

The word, the fateful word, remained unspoken.

And so they parted. And for many days

Each mourned in secret. As a dying lamp, That lights some dim church with its fitful rays, Then with a flash expires, in dusk and damp,— Even so their love grew fainter day by day; Flickered and flashed with many a dying gleam,

Until at last it faded quite away,

Forgotten, or remembered as a dream.

Yet sometimes would the pale moon's misty light
Fall on a pillow wet with lonely tears;
And wistful eyes gazed through the silent night,-
Perhaps they dreamed of half-forgotten years,


And of the blessing that they did not win;


Sweet, secret hopes that ne'er were plighted troth;

Now lost forever, all that might have been.

O God, who sends us love, forgive them both!



While writing verses for my love, I looked up from the paper,

And there she stood! I rose in haste, and over, turned the taper,

"How careless to put out the light!" she said, "It is surprising."

I answered, "that I quenched my lamp when saw the sun arising."

From the "Gulistan Saadi."


Before me careless lying,

Young Love his ware comes crying;

Full soon the elf untreasures

His pack of pains and pleasures,—

With roguish eye

He bids me buy

From out his pack of treasures.

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