. A poet's cabinet, being passages, mainly poetical . tript thus from my dear proud trust,Sent reeling down by such foul-aimd deceit!—Strange is it if my jolted brain should slipThe grooves of reason?—if I rave or curse?—You, who had known my heart, and after that,And after I had warnd you of the thing,And simulating all the while such love,—You, vowing to abjure me! more than this,To-day with such cold-blooded, soulless tact,Soft-stealing, through the door-ways left ajar,Within the inmost chambers of my heart,To snare,—as though the victim of a catThat could be playd with, trickdwith, killd,
. A poet's cabinet, being passages, mainly poetical . tript thus from my dear proud trust,Sent reeling down by such foul-aimd deceit!—Strange is it if my jolted brain should slipThe grooves of reason?—if I rave or curse?—You, who had known my heart, and after that,And after I had warnd you of the thing,And simulating all the while such love,—You, vowing to abjure me! more than this,To-day with such cold-blooded, soulless tact,Soft-stealing, through the door-ways left ajar,Within the inmost chambers of my heart,To snare,—as though the victim of a catThat could be playd with, trickdwith, killd, cast off,—This heart of mine which, as you might have known,Was throbbing but to serve you!—Yes, once more,You gain your end! Once more, your wish is can I love?—God help me!—Go you free. Haydn, lii. LOVE, DREAMING OF Where, like a child and lover both united, He dreamt of love, yet woke and thought real lovethe best. A Life in Song: Serving, xix. LOVE, DRIVEN Love, if driven, is only driven away. Midnight in a City Would only crave,When we have so much else in sympathy,That holy state where two souls, else at one,Would both be Gods. See page 28p. SELECTED QUOTATIONS 225 LOVE, EARTHLY If in the spheres of life on high,The fadeless growth of each bright yearUnfold but that whose germs are here, What good do they gain on earth who die,And let the love of earth go by? A Life in Song: Loving, ix. LOVE, EARTHLY, RENEWED IN HEAVEN Why, when you speak, your voice the echo seems,Of some familiar strain, with which all soundsThat ever I thought sweet were in when my dimmed eyes dare to face your own,Each seems a sky within which is inframedA world that holds my lifetime; and the lightBeams like a sun there, scattering doubt and gloom. Cecil the Seer, 11., 2. LOVE, ENOUGH FOR Enough to love,— .... What holds enough For that? .... Enough, To make his presence here a boon to me; To make his wishes a behest for me; To make me feel an instinct s
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