A new library of poetry and song: . PERFUME. What gift for passionate lovers shall we find ? Not flowers nor books of verse suffice for me, Nor splinters of the odorous cedar-tree, And tufts of pine-buds, oozy in the wind; Give me young shoots of aromatic rind. Or samphire, redolent of sand and sea, For all such fragrances I deem to be Fit with my sharp desire to be combined. My heart is like a poet, whose one room, Scented with Latakia faint and fine. Dried rose-leaves, and spilt attar, and old wine, From curtained windows gathers its warm gloom Round all but one sweet picture, where incline
A new library of poetry and song: . PERFUME. What gift for passionate lovers shall we find ? Not flowers nor books of verse suffice for me, Nor splinters of the odorous cedar-tree, And tufts of pine-buds, oozy in the wind; Give me young shoots of aromatic rind. Or samphire, redolent of sand and sea, For all such fragrances I deem to be Fit with my sharp desire to be combined. My heart is like a poet, whose one room, Scented with Latakia faint and fine. Dried rose-leaves, and spilt attar, and old wine, From curtained windows gathers its warm gloom Round all but one sweet picture, where incline His thoughts and fancies mingled with perfume. Edmund William AFFAIRE DAMOUR. FOR W. W. One pale November dayFlying Summer ) sa)-:And growing l)e)klcr,Oer rosy shoukler Threw her lovei sucii a glanceThat Autumns heart began todance. (O happy lover!) A leafless peach-tree boldThought for him she smiled, I m toUl;And, stirred by love,His sleeping sap did each naked branch with greenTo show her that her look was seen!(Alas, poor lover!) But Summer, laughing, knew he loved her!T is saiilThe peach-tree soon he gladly died:And Autumn, weary of the chase,Came on at Winters sober pace(O careless lover!) Makgaret Deland. LOVE. 141 So much good so tnily trieil,Some for less were deiHed. Wit slie liatli, witlioiit desire To make known how mueli slie hath ;And her anger llames no higher Than may litly sweeten of [lity as may he,Though perhaps not so to me. Reason masteis every sense,And her virtues grace her birth ; Lovely as all excellence, Modest in lier most of mirth. Likelihood enough to ]irove O
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
