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THE god of Love-ah benedicite!
How mighty and how great a lord is he!
Love's a mighty lord,
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
Nor to his service, no such joy on earth!
It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
True gentle Love is like the summer dew,
Which falls around when all is still and hush; And falls unseen until the bright drops strew
With odours, herb and flower, and bank and bush. O Love-when womanhood is in the flush,
And man's a young and an unspotted thing, His first breathed word, and her half-conscious blush, Are fair as light in heaven, or flowers in spring. Allan Cunningham.
Long-waiting love doth entrance find
Has thy uncertain bosom ever strove
Hast thou now dreaded, and now blessed his sway, By turns averse and joyful to obey?
Who love enjoys, and placed hath his mind
All tastes, all pleasures, all delights,
In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed,
In hamlets, dances on the green.
Love is a plant of holier birth,
Love?-I will tell thee what it is to love!
Above the stars in shroudless beauty shine;
Oh, sunny Love!
Frances A. Butler.
Who says he loves and is not wretched, lies; Or that love is not madness, came mad from his mother.
It is the most reasonable thing in nature.
P. J. Bailey.
WHо hath not prov'd how feebly words essay
Thou art beautiful, young lady:
Words cannot paint thee, gentlest cynosure
Of all things lovely, in that loveliest form Souls wear the youth of woman! brows as pure
As Memphian skies that never knew a storm; Lips with such sweetness in their honied deeps As fills the rose in which a fairy sleeps.
J. G. Whittier.
LOWLINESS is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face: But when he once attains the utmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. Shakspere.
The merlin cannot ever soar on high,
Nor greedy greyhound still pursue the chase: The tender lark will find a time to fly,
And fearful hare to run a quiet race.
Yet God did turn his fate upon his foe.
Honour better lowness bears
Than that unwonted greatness wears;
The flower of sweetest smell
That lowliness of heart, the highest sense
A lowly lot is mine, maiden!
But I would not envy kings, maiden!
If thou would'st make it thine, maiden!
And share that lot with me,
In lowliness thoud'st find, maiden!
LOYALTY. LUCK. LUMBER.
WE, too, are friends to loyalty; we love
The King who loves the law, respects his bounds, And reigns content within them.
The bounds of loyalty are made of glass;
Loyalty is still the same,
Whether it win or lose the game;
GLAD of such luck, the luckless, lucky maid
Farewell, good luck go with thee!
He forced his neck into a noose,
ONE son at home
Concerns thee more than many guests to come;
What are riches, empire, pow'r,
But larger means to gratify the will?
And are, like lumber, to be left and scorn'd.