This coiled hair on your head, unrolled, The Roman girls were wont, of old, When Rome there was, for coolness' sake Ever its delicate rose stain, As if the wounded lotus-blossoms Had marked their thief to know again! Stay longer yet, for others' sake Than mine! What should your chamber do? In silence while day lasts, but wake Who brought against their will together That dumb they look: your harp, believe, And while such murmurs flow, the nymph Come with a tune he knows so well. To that prim saint by Haste-thee-Luke! She speaks. I. To-morrow, if a harp-string, say, II. Your gondola-let Zorzi wreathe A mesh of water-weeds about Its prow, as if he unaware Had struck some quay or bridge-foot stair! As you and he go underneath. There's Zanze's vigilant taper; safe are we. Heart to heart And lips to lips! Yet once more, ere we part, He is surprised, and stabbed. It was ordained to be so, sweet!—and best My blood will hurt! The Three, I do not scorn, Have lived indeed, and so-(yet one more kiss)-can die ! A LOVERS' QUARREL. I. OH, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love's away! I'd as lief that the blue were grey. II. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell, With a foaming head On the beryl bed Paven smooth as a hermit's cell : Each with a tale to tell, Could my love but attend as well. III. Dearest, three months ago ! When we lived blocked-up with snow, When the wind would edge In, as far as the point could go- IV. Laughs with so little cause! We devised games out of straws. One another's face In the ash, as an artist draws; Free on each other's flaws, How we chattered like two church daws! V. What's in the "Times"?—a scold At the Emperor deep and cold; To his gruesome side, That's as fair as himself is bold: There they sit ermine-stoled, And she powders her hair with gold. VI. Fancy the Pampas' sheen! Miles and miles of gold and green Where the sunflowers blow In a solid glow, And to break now and then the screen Black neck and eyeballs keen, Up a wild horse leaps between! |