If the melody of Springtime awoke no wild refrain, I would meet you and would greet you, as years ago we met, If my woman's soul were stronger, if my heart were not so true, I should long have ceased remembering the love I had for you; But I dare not meet or greet you, in the old familiar way, Until we meet in Heaven, where all tears have passed away. Frances Cochrane [18 ASHORE OUT I came from the dancing-place, A wind off the harbor, cold and keen, A faint voice fell from the stars above- I found when I reached my lonely room And this was the worst of all to bear, The flower you loved, in times that were. Laurence Hope [1865-1904] KHRISTNA AND HIS FLUTE BE still, my heart, and listen, I hear the wistful music Of Khristna and his flute. He plays and plays and plays. Impenitentia Ultima Ah, none may hear such music The household work grows weary, I must arise and follow, To seek, in vain pursuit, In linked and liquid sequence, That none but he can solve. "My heart has flown to join thee," Beloved, such thoughts have peril; And made their music mute, To save thee from the magic Of Khristna and his flute. 917 Laurence Hope [1865-1904] IMPENITENTIA ULTIMA BEFORE my light goes out forever, if God should give me choice of graces, I would not reck of length of days, nor crave for things to be; But cry: "One day of the great lost days, one face of all the faces, Grant me to see and touch once more and nothing more to see! "For, Lord, I was free of all Thy flowers, but I chose the world's sad roses, And that is why my feet are torn and mine eyes are blind with sweat, But at Thy terrible judgment seat, when this my tired life closes, I am ready to reap whereof I sowed, and pay my righteous debt. "But once, before the sand is run and the silver thread is broken, Give me a grace and cast aside the veil of dolorous years, Grant me one hour of all mine hours, and let me see for a token Her pure and pitiful eyes shine out, and bathe her feet with tears." Her pitiful hands should calm and her hair stream down and blind me, Out of the sight of night, and out of the reach of fear, And her eyes should be my light whilst the sun went out behind me, And the viols in her voice be the last sound in mine ear. Before the ruining waters fall and my life be carried under, And Thine anger cleave me through, as a child cuts down a flower, I will praise Thee, Lord, in hell, while my limbs are racked asunder, For the last sad sight of her face and the little grace of an hour. Ernest Dowson [1867-1900] NON SUM QUALIS ERAM BONAE SUB REGNO CYNARAE LAST night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine; I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. Quid Non Speremus, Amantes? 919 All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat, Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay; Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet; But I was desolate and sick of an old passion, When I awoke and found the dawn was gray: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Yea, all the time, because the dance was long: I cried for madder music and for stronger wine, QUID NON SPEREMUS, AMANTES? WHY is there in the least touch of her hands Of flesh to flesh, wherever love may go? Why choose vain grief and heavy-hearted hours Nay! She is gone, and all things fall apart; Or she is cold, and vainly have we prayed; As man aspires and falls, yet a soul springs So love that flesh enthralls, shall rise on wings Then, most High Love, or wreathed with myrtle sprays, Thee may I serve and follow all my days, Ernest Dowson [1867-1900] "SO SWEET LOVE SEEMED" But I can tell-let truth be told-- And in the end 'twill come to pass His little spring, that sweet we found, Robert Bridges [1844 AN OLD TUNE* AFTER GÉRARD DE NERVAL THERE is an air for which I would disown |