Home Categories English reader SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE AND OTHER LOVE POEMS
Thou comest! all is said without a word. I sit beneath thy looks, as children do In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through Their happy eyelids from an unaverred Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred In that last doubt ! and yet I cannot rue The sin most, but the occasion--that we two Should for a moment stand unministered By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close, Thou dovelike help ! and, when my fears would rise, With thy broad heart serenely interpose: Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those, Like callow birds left desert to the skies.

The first time that the sun rose on thine oath To love me, I looked forward to the moon To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon And quickly tied to make a lasting troth. Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; And, looking on myself, I seemed not one For such mans love!--more like an out-of-tune Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste, Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,--

And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat. Yes, call me by my pet-name ! let me hear The name I used to run at, when a child, From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled, To glance up in some face that proved me dear With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled Into the music of Heavens undefiled, Call me no longer. Silence on the bier, While I call God--call God !--So let thy mouth Be heir to those who are now examine. Gather the north flowers to complete the south, And catch the early love up in the late. Yes, call me by that name,--and I, in truth,

With the same heart, will answer and not wait. With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee As those, when thou shalt call me by my name-- Lo, the vain promise ! is the same, the same, Perplexed and ruffled by lives strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game, To run and answer with the smile that came At play last moment, and went on with me Through my obedience. When I answer now, I drop a grave thought, break from solitude; Yet still my heart goes to thee--ponder how-- Not as to a single good, but all my good!

Lay thy hand on it, best one, and allow That no children foot could run fast as this blood. XXXV If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me? Shall I never miss Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange, When I look up, to drop on a new range Of walls and floors, another home than this? Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change? That s hardest. If to conquer love, has tried, To conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove; For grief indeed is love and grief beside.

Alas, I have grieved sol am hard to love. Yet love me--wilt thou? Open thine heart wide, And fold within the wet wings of thy dove.
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