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And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief :
“ Though I love her—that, he comprehends“ One should master one's passions, (love, in chief)
“ And be loyal to one's friends !”
And she,-she lies in my hand as tame
As a pear late basking over a wall ; Just a touch to try, and off it came;
'T is mine,-can I let it fall ?
Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist ? 'T was quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst
When I gave its stalk a twist.
And I,—what I seem to my friend, you see ;
What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess : What I seem to myself, do you ask of me?
No hero, I confess.
And matter enough to save one's own :
One likes to show the truth for the truth ;
That the woman was light is very true :
What wrong have I done to you?
So far at least as I understand ;
Here 's a subject made to your hand !
LOVE IN A LIFE.
I Room after room, I hunt the house through We inhabit together. Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find herNext time, herself !--not the trouble behind her Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume ! As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew; Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.
II Yet the day wears, And door succeeds door ; I try the fresh fortuneRange the wide house from the wing to the centre. Still the same chance ! she goes out as I enter. Spend my whole day in the quest,—who cares ? But 't is twilight, you see,—with such suites to explore, Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!
LIFE IN A LOVE.
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
It seems too much like a fate, indeed !
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
So the chace takes up one's life, that 's all.
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark,
Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
II He is with her, and they know that I know Where they are, what they do : they believe my tears flow While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear Empty church, to pray God in, for them !-I am here.
Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,
That in the mortar-you call it a gum ?
Had I but all of them, thee and thy treasures,
Soon, at the King's, a mere lozenge to give
What a drop! She 's not little, no minion like me !
IX For only last night, as they whispered, I brought My own eyes to bear on her so, that I thought Could I keep them one half minute fixed, she would fall Shrivelled ; she fell not ; yet this does it all !
Not that I bid you spare her the pain ;
Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose ;
Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill,
OH, the beautiful girl, too white,
Who lived at Pornic down by the sea,
And a boasted name in Brittany