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 ('*J?#i5ir''A>;;^Auv^'
 
 LYRA MANCUNIENSIS 
 
 a
 
 LYRA MANCUNIENSIS 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER HUGHES 
 
 LONDON 
 KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Lt?. 
 
 1890
 
 ,{The rights oj trnnsJaticn and p/ y(f<roiluction are rtsovcd.')
 
 fR 
 
 THESE VERSES 
 
 arp: dedicated 
 
 TO 
 
 THOSE ^YIIO READ T1!E^E 
 
 868756
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sonnets I. — XI. ... ... ... . ... i — ii 
 
 Madrigals T. — IV. ... ... ... 12—15 
 
 I DREAM OF Phyllis ... ... ... ... 16 
 
 Phyllis, say ! ... ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 1 SANG OF Phyllis ... ... ... ... 18 
 
 To YOU WHO KNOW ... ... ... ... 19 
 
 Villanelle ... ... ... ... ... 20 
 
 On the Grass ... ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 Oh, Long the Way ! ... ... ... ... 22 
 
 The Prisoner ... ... ... ... ... 23 
 
 The Beggar ... ... ... ... ... 24 
 
 Phyllis ... ... ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 A Song ... ... ... ... ... 28 
 
 Maid of Skye ... ... ... ... ... 29 
 
 We parted in Spring ... ... ... -xo
 
 VI 11 COyTENIS. 
 
 Pretty Maid ... ... ... ... ... 31 
 
 Fame ... ... ... ... ... ... 32 
 
 Thought and Action ... ... ... ... 33 
 
 Come, Phyllis ... ... ... ... 34 
 
 There is Music ... ... .. ... ... 36 
 
 Parting with I'iiyllis ... ... ... 37 
 
 Phyllis, Time was ... ... ... ••■ 3^ 
 
 We must part ... ... ... .•• 4° 
 
 How Long ! ... ... ... ... ... 41 
 
 When we see ... ... ... ... 42 
 
 Over the Silent City ... ... ... ... 43 
 
 The Tabor ... ... ... ... ... 44 
 
 As at Night ... ... ... ... ... 45 
 
 I have thee ... ... ... ... ... 46 
 
 Of all the Things ... ... ... ... 47 
 
 Come Forth ... ... ... ... ... 48
 
 SONNET I. 
 
 Orion is striding yonder through the sky 
 Looking to earth, and wondering much to see 
 A mortal who can love so well as I, 
 But ceasing wonder when he looks on thee. 
 Why do the stars, each steadfast in his place, 
 Fixed through a thousand years, all seem to gize 
 And tremble when they see thee ? Can thy face 
 Strike e'en the heavenly dwellers with amaze ? 
 Yet day will come, the earth with ceaseless swing 
 Shall carry thee where they shall see no more, 
 The sun shall smile with joy, and everything 
 Shall vow there ne'er was beauty seen before. 
 But I alone can never gaze my fill : 
 By night, by day, oh let me see thee still 1 
 
 B
 
 SONNET II. 
 
 Why should I grieve, because perchance thy smile 
 
 Hath shone upon another ; or thine ear, 
 
 Prone once to list my speech, hath found more cheer 
 
 In better words than mine ? And yet the while 
 
 A sigh will rise to think I am forgot, — 
 
 If not forgot, remembered but to touch 
 
 The mind but not the heart, if e'en so much. 
 
 Whether, alas ! thou lovest him or not 
 
 Thou lov'st not me. The stars that saw my birth 
 
 Have known that Love and I should never meet 
 
 Save to gaze lonely o'er a lonely earth, 
 
 And seek in vain some well-beloved form 
 
 That might (oh had it been !) have led my feet 
 
 In peace and safety through the o'erwhelming storm.
 
 SONNET in. 
 
 Like as in early Winter's evening sky 
 The waxing moon siiines pale, and overhead 
 The. speechless stars a twinkling brightness shed, 
 And change no whit the while all else must die ; 
 Like as a barren earth doth but recall 
 The spring-tide's bloom, that now is seen no more. 
 The birds, the flowers that blew so sweet before. 
 And frosty Death kills Summer's all-in-all : 
 Lo ! thus I mourn that once was glad no less ; 
 My hopes are dead, and rise no more anew ; 
 A bloodless grief hath banished happiness, 
 And, though undying Truth shine o'er my head, 
 Weak is the light that guides me, and untrue. 
 And the warm cheery sunshine-smiles are fled.
 
 SONNET IV. 
 
 Departed are the guests, the hall forsaken, 
 Where round the board e'en now a festive throng 
 But dimly heard the conscious rafters shaken 
 ^Vith overcharged luxuriance of song. 
 Lonely I walk, and half in sadness ponder 
 On what has been — to be, alas I no more, — 
 On hopes where Fancy dreamily may wander. 
 But unfulfilled till youth and life are o'er. 
 All these are gone, but I alone remaining 
 Am left to sing, one voice too feebly shrill, 
 Last of a choir, and all unused to fill 
 The echoing vaults with floods of joyous sound. 
 I too must cease, my purposeless complaining 
 Is ended, and the clock has run his round.
 
 ( 5 ) 
 
 SONNET V, 
 
 If my regrets were but a meed of praise, 
 And all my sins were deeds of high design, — 
 If all my years were filled with happy days, 
 And all my words were gems of Wisdom's mine,— 
 If all my foes were friends who loved me well. 
 And all my thoughts were noble and sublime, — 
 If I had wj-ought what passes speech to tell, 
 And earned a fame that should outweary time, — 
 Had I a heart that could but love, not hate, — 
 Had I a brain whose thought was ever right, — 
 Had I an arm to mould a nation's fate, — 
 Had I the faith to ever seek the light, — 
 Did every failure lead me to success, — 
 Then were I more than man, or haply less.
 
 ( 6 ) 
 
 SONNET VI. 
 
 Why should I strive ? why should my young life fade, 
 
 Worn out by toil ? My hopes are highly set ; 
 
 Yet not for gold, or wealth in storehouse laid, 
 
 Is my deep longing. Like to waves that fret 
 
 The heartless rocks away, and work the plan 
 
 Formed in an older world, intent I seek 
 
 To pierce the husk of things and be a man, 
 
 Not live resigned — the refuge of the weak. 
 
 The bubble fame may break — I care no whit, 
 
 Twas not for me : deep pondering on the age 
 
 May make men wretched — I will none of it. 
 
 I find not there the battles I would wage. 
 
 What would I then ? Alas, no guide have I ! 
 
 Yet will I rise, or struggling upward die.
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 SONNET VII. 
 
 Load, Time, thy quickening step, nor headlong fly 
 
 In haste to lift the coming Summer's curtain. 
 
 I fain would stay, and lie a moment by, 
 
 Nor stake this happy hour for one uncertain. 
 
 Less faith have I, than in youth's giddy heat. 
 
 In what a day unUved may hold in store ; 
 
 But larger joy to walk with lingering feet 
 
 Through life's brief scenes, now lovelier than before, 
 
 Thus let me live, nor sunk in niddering ease 
 
 Nor seeking still the eyes of men to fetter. 
 
 Oh ! let this day be long, that I may seize 
 
 And hold it fast ; I ne'er shall know a better. 
 
 Rather would I thus live, and nothing lack. 
 
 Than forward strive, or look with longing back.
 
 ( 8 ) 
 
 SONNET VIII. 
 
 If ever I have listened to the wave 
 
 That makes lona musical, or stepped 
 
 Among Avignon's olive groves, or wept 
 
 A poet's tear by Heloisa's grave, 
 
 Or lived with former ages in the sun 
 
 That gilds the land of Dante, then it seems 
 
 Like half-imagined images or dreams. 
 
 That wake and wane when night is nearly done. 
 
 Beauty and thoughts of beauty droop and die. 
 
 Crushed in the whirl of waking life ; and now. 
 
 If that I dreamed such dreams, I know not how 
 
 They come no more, or fade in passing by. 
 
 A mind transformed has no more power to tell 
 
 Of things it loved before, and loved so well.
 
 SONNET IX. 
 
 Through life's rough path, where foes unsparing hide, 
 
 Some don Faith's armour, and, in strong array 
 
 Marching together, thousands side by side, 
 
 Fighting all ill, come safely on their way. 
 
 Others of stronger mould, with bared breast 
 
 And Berserk rage all lurking monsters kill, 
 
 Or through untrodden forests, without rest, 
 
 Break a clear path that all may come who will. 
 
 But there be some who, weaker for the fight. 
 
 Yet daring all, take courage at the view 
 
 Of danger; they may still defend the right, 
 
 And find a brave and worthy work to do, — 
 
 Like as of old the shepherd, Jesse's son, 
 
 Fearless o'ercame the giant with a stone.
 
 ( lO ) 
 
 SONNET X. 
 
 We cannot know the future ; we can only 
 Face it with courage, be it good or ill : 
 As Bruce in exile, shelterless and lonely, 
 O'ercame despair, and hoped to conquer still ; 
 As he of Venice, who across the waste 
 Brought word of Samarkand and far Cathay, 
 Pierced to the dark Unknown, as if in haste 
 To join the Eastern dawn and Western day. 
 Danger will come, and sorrow : we must wait, — 
 Danger at closer sight may lose its fear. 
 And sorrow hold some balm ; the immortal's hate 
 Brought wise Odysseus to his kindred dear ; 
 And Lazarus, who begged the rich man's grace, 
 In Abraham's bosom found a resting-place.
 
 II 
 
 SONNET XL 
 
 Talk not of weariness ; too calm and sure 
 
 Thy soul. I know, for such to enter there, 
 
 Though he whose youthful voice rang sweet and pure 
 
 Tunes in his later notes a harsh despair. 
 
 Great is his shame who should have had much praise, 
 
 But thou shalt gain a triumph, nothing less. 
 
 O'er age, that dulls the strength of younger days ; 
 
 O'er pain, that makes of life a wilderness ; 
 
 O'er death, dark curtain of a light unseen ; 
 
 And o'er despair, that seems too bitter now, — 
 
 For not for naught have those before us been, 
 
 Nor those around, and not for naught art thou. 
 
 Look onward yet ; though dark the moment be, 
 
 Doubt not, but know the world hath need of thee.
 
 12 
 
 MADRIGAL I. 
 
 The soft green hills slept in their leafy cloak, 
 The rugged peaks frowned gloomily on high, 
 As one by one the little birds awoke, 
 Singing a roundelay of untaught grace. 
 While grey as pearl was summer's morning sky, 
 And pearly grey the restful ocean's face. 
 How sweet it was to me to walk awhile, 
 A\'ith thee to watch the loitering sun arise, 
 O happy Phyllis with the sunny smile, 
 O happy Phyllis with the laughing eyes !
 
 ( 13 ) 
 
 MADRIGAL II. 
 
 The. sun may loiter, but that would not I ; 
 The birds may sing, thy voice is sweeter far ; 
 The granite peaks may frown, they know not why ; 
 The birch tree tremble on the breathless hill ; 
 On thee I gaze, and pray that Time may mar 
 No hour of thine, but leave thee happy still. 
 With thee I'd walk o'er each unconscious mile, 
 And taste the day unheeding how it flies, 
 O happy Phyllis with the sunny smile, 
 O happy Phyllis with the laughing eyes !
 
 ( 14 ) 
 
 MADRIGAL III. 
 
 AVouLD that I Avere where tower the rocks gigantic, 
 Where the West wind blows gently from the sea 
 That flows by Morven from the vast Atlantic, 
 Would that my foot were planted on the heather 
 On Nevis' side, — yet sweeter far to me 
 To be with Phyllis — she and I together. 
 Alone with her am I, though in a crowd ; 
 With her a wilderness doth lack no grace ; 
 Her voice I hear, though tempests roar aloud, 
 Nor would I list another in its place.
 
 MADRIGAL IV. 
 
 Yet am I sad for Phyllis will not hear me, 
 And doth with others speak, uncaring aught ; 
 Happy alike when far away or near me; 
 Living from hour to hour, and never haunted 
 By the perpetual presence of one thought 
 As I by hers — thus ever am I daunted. 
 So must I guess and wonder at my fate, 
 Till jealousy doth gnaw me, and I glance 
 With knitted brows, wishing that love or hate 
 Were mine. Yet neither is — or both perchance.
 
 ( :6 ) 
 
 / DREAM OF PHYLLIS. 
 
 I DREAM of Phyllis. Does she dream of me ? 
 
 My heart says yes, but fears it speaks too gladly. 
 
 How can I riddle what her dreams may be ? 
 
 Perchance she laughs, perchance she weepeth sadly. 
 
 Perchance her fancy hath forgot me quite. 
 
 Yet I, poor fool, still dote upoa her madly. 
 
 Oh that some fairy imp or lover's sprite 
 
 Would lightly fly to her beset with sleep, 
 
 And tell me if I read her mind aright, 
 
 And bring my, image there that she may see 
 
 How hers is housed in my bosom deep ! 
 
 I dream of Phyllis. Does she dream of me ?
 
 ( 17 ) 
 
 O PHYLLIS, SAY ! 
 
 O Phyllis, say, to what shall I compare thee ? 
 
 Only thyself can with thyself compare ! 
 
 Vainly the stars, the birds, and flowers beware thee, 
 
 For they are nothing worth when thou art there. 
 
 Alone the fairest among earthly things, 
 
 ^'et not alone, I watch thee everywhere; 
 
 And, watching thee, my fancy would have wings. 
 
 But cannot fly, since naught may rise above thee, — 
 
 Therefore it stays, with bootless questionings, 
 
 ^Vhy thou art fliir and why all creatures love thee. 
 
 Then needless were my praises to declare thee 
 
 The sweetest maid, when earth and sky approve thee. 
 
 O Phillis, say, to what shall I compare thee ?
 
 ( iS ) 
 
 / SA.VG OF PHYLLIS. 
 
 I SANG of Phyllis, and I sing again, 
 
 For singing her my heart was beating truly. 
 
 Then vowed I to forget her, but in vain — 
 
 That vow was broken straight, though made but newly 
 
 I sang of field and forest, sword and strife, 
 
 I sang of others' charms, and praised them duly ; 
 
 I strove to stir my soundless harp to life 
 
 By glowing words wherein my heart was not. 
 
 For joy was seldom and regrets were rife 
 
 In struggles, strong and feeble, cold and hot. 
 
 And memory would not vanish, but was fain 
 
 To dwell on her who cannot be forgot ; 
 
 I sang of Phillis, and I sing again !
 
 { 19 ) 
 
 TO YOU WHO KNOW. 
 
 To you who know the tenour of my song 
 Imust not suig, but seek some other hearer; 
 Those ancient fancies I have held so long 
 May weary, though to me they are the dearer. 
 So if I write of Freedom, War, and Love, 
 To you the uttered feeling comes no nearer. 
 Perchance there may be others they can move 
 To thoughts not known before, and haply bring 
 Some grovelling spirit to the light above. 
 For well I know that oft a trivial thing 
 Hath had great consequence and issue strong. 
 To others then I turn, no more to sing 
 To you who know the tenour of my song.
 
 20 
 
 VILLANELLE. 
 
 The southern breezes, as they pass, 
 Breathe not their way with touch as light 
 As Phyllis stepping o'er the grass. 
 
 Like gentle Nature's looking-glass,' 
 She seems to dalliance to invite 
 The southern breezes as they pass. 
 What flower, what sunshine can surpass, 
 To me, the rare but welcome sight 
 Of Phyllis stepping o'er the grass? 
 
 Not loudly, like the sounding brass, 
 But gently, whisper with delight 
 The southern breezes as they pass. 
 What songs might troubadours amass. 
 Should I the sweet impression write 
 Of Phyllis stepping o'er the grass ! 
 She is my own, my darling lass, 
 And I can watch in charms unite 
 The southern breezes as they pass, 
 And Phyllis stepping o'er the grass.
 
 21 
 
 ON THE GRASS. 
 
 On the grass round dewdrops shine, 
 Changeful Nature's diamond mine, 
 Till the frost in sportive glee 
 Turns them all to filigree. 
 
 Streams, that wind in current slow, 
 Brighter green than emeralds show ; 
 And the blaze of rubies rare 
 Pales before the sunset's glare. 
 
 Pearls may fade, their beauty shorn 
 By the mists that float, at morn. 
 O'er rocks that in a setting stand 
 Of golden broom and silver sand. 
 
 But I seek the dearest prize 
 In the depths of Phyllis' eyes : 
 These a thousand treasures hold, 
 More than silver, more than gold !
 
 22 
 
 OH, LONG THE WAY! 
 
 Oh, long the way before me, 
 As I hasten through the gloaming ! 
 But a magic spell is o'er me ; 
 I am coming, I am coming ! 
 Oh ! may the sunlight tarry, 
 Oh I may the dull clouds slacken, 
 Lest the night its mantle carry 
 O'er the golden-tinted bracken ! 
 May no fairy voices hush me 
 To slumber as I travel, 
 May no falling oak-tree crush me, 
 Or wandering pathways ravel. 
 Ere I come to thee, my sweetest, 
 The goal of all my roaming ! 
 Oh, such an end is meetest, — 
 I am coming, I am coming !
 
 THE PRISONER. 
 
 Through the bars of my prison 
 I see the green meadow, 
 Ere the sun is arisen 
 And the land is in shadow. 
 The stars are ahght 
 With a whiteness new born, 
 Ne'er seen but when night 
 Is just yielding to morn. 
 The light seems to linger 
 Like a, care-little maiden. 
 Ere it rouses each singer 
 From the branches, song laden. 
 Oh ! long may it linger. 
 Oh ! long may they slumber, 
 Ere the sun, the woe-bringer, 
 Fill up my days' number ! 
 From the floor of my cell 
 I still gaze at the sky, 
 At the world. Fare ye well, 
 For at morn I must die !
 
 ( 24 ) 
 
 THE BEGGAR. 
 
 Found dead — all frozen to death in the night ; 
 
 Only a beggar — a luckless wight. 
 
 Poor fellow, the thought of it grieves me sore ! 
 
 I'll try to forget it — no more, no more ! 
 
 Yet hold, let me laugh as hard as I can, 
 
 He was worthy as I am — a man is a man. 
 
 Only a beggar ! ay, only ! — that only 
 
 Cuts off the dead one, nameless and lonely, 
 
 Ofif from his fellows, off from mankind, 
 
 The race of wealth, and the strife of mind. 
 
 Who was he ? Nobody. Why should we grieve ? 
 
 If 'tis well he has lived, 'tis well he should leave. 
 
 The world is bitter, the world is hard ; 
 
 We've our livings to earn, and our havings to guard. 
 
 An idler, who eats that others may toil, 
 
 A blight on the land, a curse on the soil ! 
 
 A blight and a curse ! What, then, am 1 ? 
 
 The time will come for us all to die,
 
 THE BEGGAR. 
 
 And that beggar and I stand side by side, 
 Each on his own poor worth to be tried. 
 'Tis well for me now in my strength to speak, 
 And look down upon him, worn, weary, and weak, 
 Dying and dead. Ah ! fie on such pride ! 
 They don't reckon so on the other side. 
 No ! I'll be kind, and speak him fair. 
 Lest I should some day meet him there !
 
 ( 26 
 
 PHYLLIS. 
 
 Phyllis, with a gleeful eye, 
 Sees me not, but passes by ; 
 Turning down the lane that only 
 Leads to pastures flat and lonely, 
 ^Vhere away doth Phyllis go ? 
 
 I know, I know. 
 Who is waiting in the meadow, 
 Under eve's protecting shadow ; 
 Why doth he with constant gaze, 
 Watch the parting of the ways ; 
 Waiting, though the hours be slow ? 
 
 I know, I know. 
 Will she greet him kindly, gently ? 
 Will he answer eloquently ? 
 Will they feign a sweet surprise, 
 Close together lips and eyes ? 
 ^^'hat may mean that whisper low ? 
 
 I know, I know.
 
 PHYLLIS. 27 
 
 Why is Phyllis sad of face 
 When the winter comes apace ? 
 Why do years and hearts grow older ? 
 Why is youth and sunshine colder ? 
 Why is Phyllis full of woe ? 
 
 I know, I know. 
 Why should Phyllis pine away ? 
 Why doth midnight follow day ? 
 Sad the tale begun so gaily ; 
 Sad that it should happen daily ! 
 It hath been, and will be so. 
 
 I know, I know.
 
 ( 28 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 A SONG of the sun and the south, 
 
 A song of the olive and vine ; 
 The Nile's wide flow, and the Tagus' moutli, 
 
 The Basque and the Apennine. 
 
 The ^gean, Messina, and Tyre, 
 The Rialto, the Arno, and Rome ; 
 
 Their echoes in song never tire, 
 
 Though we hear them far distant at home.
 
 ( 29 ) 
 
 MAID OF SKYE. 
 
 Bonny little maid of Skye, 
 
 Tresses wild, and wilder eye ; 
 
 Never timid, never shy ; 
 
 Barefoot through the heather leaping, 
 Swiftly over boulders creeping. 
 In the burn at fishes peeping, 
 
 Nimble as the flying doe, 
 
 Hardy as the kine that low 
 
 In the misty vale below : 
 
 Dost thou ever pause to ponder ? 
 Dost thou ever fear to wander 
 On the dreary moorland yonder? 
 
 Bonny maiden, tell me why 
 
 Thou art happier than I ? 
 
 Tell me, little maid of Skye !
 
 ( 30 
 
 WE PARTED IN SPRING. 
 
 We parted in Spring time, we parted in tears, 
 Like an April morn when the sun is pale ; 
 
 We met at the Harvest-tide, after long years, 
 With smile and content at our life's half tale. 
 
 But the Spring had a hope, and our spirits were young, 
 And the Autumn sun daily was sinking more low ; 
 
 Youth's sorrows are hopeful, though gi ief may be strong, 
 And the joys of our manhood are tempered with woe.
 
 PRETTY MAID. 
 
 Prettv maid, pretty maid, why are you smiling? 
 
 Mischief is lurking behind those blue eyes. 
 Know you not, flattery turns to reviling, 
 . Bitterness lurks in a smile ere it dies ? 
 
 Pretty maid, pretty maid, be not so cruel, 
 Try not your lover beyond his poor strength ; 
 
 To your own sacrifice bring not the fuel, 
 
 Lest he should rally, and leave you at length. 
 
 Pretty maid, pretty maid, when he has left you. 
 Then you will wonder you could not be kind,- 
 
 INIourn for the triumph of which he bereft you, 
 Leaving regret and reflection behind.
 
 FAME. 
 
 Fame is a bubble, glory is a sham, 
 And popularity's a fond delusion ; 
 
 Not what men think of me, but what I am, 
 Is worth a thought, the rest is but confusion. 
 
 Whate'er a man does well oft meets derision ; 
 
 His poorest work a rich applause inherits : 
 Whate'er he does, he finds the world's decision 
 
 Either below or else above his merits.
 
 ( 33 
 
 THOUGHT AND ACTION. 
 
 "Action without thought is a stormy sea ; 
 
 Thought without action is a wilderness : 
 The desert sand brings forth no flower or tree ; 
 
 The tempest brings but danger and distress. 
 But thought and action, moving hand in hand, 
 Is the sweet interchange of sea and land. 
 
 D
 
 ( 34 ) 
 
 COME, PHYLLIS. 
 
 Come, Phyllis, leave your spinning ; 
 The fair is just beginning. 
 And every lad must seek his lass 
 If she be worth the winning. 
 
 You think it ver}' clever 
 To turn me off with " Never," 
 But I tell you I shall win you yet. 
 If I have to wait for ever. 
 
 I shall not sulk or worry. 
 
 Or put you in a flurry. 
 
 But if you're cold I'll take my time 
 
 And not be in a hurry. 
 
 I know you mean to take me. 
 So naught you say can shake me ; 
 I'll not be sad and woebegone, 
 Howe'er you try to make me.
 
 COME, PHYLLIS. 
 
 I'll never be so foolish 
 As to weep if you are coolish, 
 But keep a constant heart for you 
 Although you call it mulish. 
 
 Come out, and be in reason ; 
 
 Cold looks are out of season : 
 
 For an eye of frost, when the spring is come, 
 
 Is little short of treason. 
 
 I'm keen, and yet no wizard ; 
 I'm true, and wear no vizard ; 
 And you are just the bonniest lass 
 From Orknev to the Lizard.
 
 ( 36 ) 
 
 THERE IS MUSIC. 
 
 There is music in earth aad in air, 
 
 And Spring is her blessing bestowing ; 
 
 And sorrow and care 
 
 Have no right to be there 
 
 When Nature her beauty is showing. 
 
 I'm going 
 
 To where I can hear the grass growing ! 
 
 So, PhylUs, come out ! Have a care, 
 
 Come quick, lest I venture to doubt you. 
 
 If you are not soon there 
 
 I'll be off, and I swear 
 
 I'll take with me some other to flout you. 
 
 Without you 
 
 I soon shall forget all about you !
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 PARTING WITH PHYLLIS. 
 
 Phyllis, Phyllis, we raust part ; 
 
 For a while you will not see me : 
 Yet I shall not break my heart; 
 
 Parting will from sorrow free me. 
 
 When before your eyes I go 
 
 I must do my best to please you, 
 
 But the more my feelings glow, 
 Something seems the more to freeze you. 
 
 When I wander far away 
 
 I can keep all sorrow under. 
 Let us cease this folly, pray, — 
 
 We are better far asunder !
 
 ( 38 ) 
 
 PHYLLIS, TIME WAS. 
 
 Ah, Phyllis ! time was when I thought you 
 The one to whom others should bow ; 
 With longing and tremor I sought you, 
 And I don't think you otherwise now. 
 For how 
 Can I hide what my feelings allow ? 
 
 In the course of this life of insanity 
 I've been courted, at least by a few, 
 Just sufficient to flatter my vanity, 
 But it palled when it ceased to be new. 
 It's true 
 I never was courted by you ! 
 
 I don't rant as much as I did; 
 I may be a little bit colder ; —
 
 PHYLLIS, TIME WAS. 39 
 
 1'he feelings can better be hid 
 'When a man is a few summers older, 
 
 And bolder, 
 
 And has learned to endure the cold shoulder. 
 
 I can meet you and not be excited ; 
 I can smile though your glances may slay : 
 _Uon't think that my life has been blighted, 
 Though 1 love you sincerely to-day. 
 But stay, 
 You'll be bored if I talk in this way.
 
 40 ) 
 
 JVE MUST PART. 
 
 We must part, then, for ever, — they say 'tis the best,- 
 
 And be parted while time shall be : 
 Thou to the East, and I to the West, 
 
 Across the unending sea. 
 
 I to the sunset, thou to the dawn, 
 
 To the region of hopeful day ; 
 Each on the wings of the sea-wind borne, 
 
 But each on a different way. 
 
 Yet it may be, the farther our wandering feet 
 
 The deserts and oceans divide, 
 The nearer we come to the day we shall meet 
 
 Around on the other side.
 
 ( 41 
 
 HOW LONG! 
 
 How long the night, and dreary ! how weary 
 
 I sigh alone ! 
 
 Alone I sigh, though thou art nigh, 
 
 And dost not hear my moan. 
 
 Loudly I'll sing, and proudly. 
 
 That thou, sweet heart, shalt hear me. 
 
 Thy sunny smile shall cheer me, 
 
 Nor leave me more alone.
 
 ( 42 ) 
 
 WHEN WE SEE. 
 
 When we see a youth and maid 
 Seek yet shun each other's eye, 
 
 Full of speech though naught is said, 
 Phyllis laughs, and so do I. 
 
 When they meet with hand and lip, 
 
 Little recking we are by, 
 Flying others' fellowship, 
 
 Phyllis laughs, and so do I. 
 
 1 for Phyllis care no whit. 
 
 And she cares no whit for me : 
 
 Sure, there is a charm in it, 
 That at last we both agree ! 
 
 ^^'hen we meet and when we part. 
 We gaze no more with longing eye, 
 
 List no more with longing heart ; 
 Phyllis laughs, and so do L
 
 ( 43 ) 
 
 OVER THE SILENT CITY. 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 Over the silent city 
 
 Rings loud the bell's refrain. 
 Good-night ! thy heart shall slumber, 
 
 And day will come again. 
 Thy child sleeps in the cradle, 
 
 And I am by thy side, 
 Though care and trouble ever 
 
 May with us both abide. 
 Once more, then, let us whisper, 
 
 " Good-night, my love, good-night." 
 The moon shines o'er our dwelling ; 
 
 God keeps us in his sight.
 
 ( 44 
 
 THE TABOR. 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 Gaily, loudly, sound my tabor, 
 
 Though my heart is torn with fears. 
 Gaily, loudly, sound my tabor : 
 If thou, cheery friend, couldst gather 
 What my woe is, louder, farther 
 Every note would echo rather 
 Of my sorrow and my tears. 
 
 'Mid the sound of mirth and dances 
 Mine the hand that joy enhances ; 
 Thought is lulled to happy fancies — 
 
 Thought of sorrow and of tears. 
 Happy ye, each motion linking 
 Through the measure, never thinking 
 How to sobs my song is sinking. 
 
 For my heart is torn with fears.
 
 ( 4? ) 
 
 AS AT NIGHT. 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 As at night in dreams I lay, 
 I saw a bright ladye 
 Till the waking of the day ; 
 Too soon it wakened me ! j 
 Vanished the sweet surprise 
 I know not where— the wind 
 Wafted it from my eyes. 
 My eyes are too unkind ; 
 I would that I were blind !
 
 ( 46 ) 
 
 / HA VE THEE. 
 
 TRANSLATED, 
 
 I HAVE thee, and thou hast me, 
 That thou canst assured be. 
 Within my heart 
 Fast locked thou art, 
 And, as I have lost the key, 
 In my heart thou'lt ever be.
 
 ( 47 
 
 OF ALL THE THLNGS. 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 Of all the things that hardest are, 
 
 The hardest is the diamond stone ; 
 But I will say — more true by far — 
 
 That, were my lady rightly known, 
 Her heart is harder still ; 
 
 Whate'er I say and sing, 
 
 Howe'er I service bring, 
 She is the harder, stern of heart and will. 
 Shall I beseech her more, or strive until 
 
 My years are gone in sorrowing ?
 
 ( 4S ) 
 
 COME FORTH. 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 Come forth, come forth, my bonnie bride. 
 
 And roam the world with me; 
 Through good betide, and ill betide, 
 
 I'll share my all with thee. 
 And thou shalt dwell my heart within 
 
 As long as I shall live, — 
 To love me less, the only sin 
 
 That I shall not forgive. 
 
 I'KIN'TED &\ WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 LONDON AND BECCLES. 
 
 THE LlliKAKlf 
 
 CKIVERSITY OF CALIFOKXMiA 
 
 24OS AliGELE^
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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