. Ballads. musinj^, carries it to bed. And sighs and envies you ! Our ladys old and feeble now, Theyll say ; she once was fresh and fair ;And yet she spurned her lovers vow, And heartless left him to despair;The lover lies in silent earth No kindly mate the lady cheers ;She sits beside a lonely hearth. With threescore and ten years ! Ah! dreary thoughts and dreams are those ! But wherefore yield me to yet the poets bosom glows. While yet the dame is peerless fair !Sweet lady mine ! while yet tis time Requite my passion and my gather in their blushing prime The roses of
. Ballads. musinj^, carries it to bed. And sighs and envies you ! Our ladys old and feeble now, Theyll say ; she once was fresh and fair ;And yet she spurned her lovers vow, And heartless left him to despair;The lover lies in silent earth No kindly mate the lady cheers ;She sits beside a lonely hearth. With threescore and ten years ! Ah! dreary thoughts and dreams are those ! But wherefore yield me to yet the poets bosom glows. While yet the dame is peerless fair !Sweet lady mine ! while yet tis time Requite my passion and my gather in their blushing prime The roses of your youth I AT THE CHURCH GATK. 91 AT THE CHURCH GATE. Although I enter round about the spot Ofttimes I hover;And near the sacred longing eyes I wait, Expectant of her. The minster bell tolls outAbove the citys rout, And noise and humming ;Theyve hushed the minster bell:The organ gins to swell ; Shes coming, shes coming ! My lady comes at and stepping hastening AT THE CHURCH GATE. 93 With modest eyes downcast:She comes — shes here, shes past —May Heaven go with her ! Kneel undisturbed, fair saint !Pour out your praise or plaint Meekly and duly;I will not enter sully your pure prayer With thoughts unruly. But suffer me to paceRound the forbidden place, Lingering a minuteLike outcast spirits who waitAnd see through Heavens gate Angels within it. <Ji TIIK AOE OK WISDOM. THE AGE OF WISDOM. Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin, That never has known the barbers shear,All your wish is woman to win,This is the way that boys begin, —Wait till you come to Forty Year. Curly gold locks cover foolish brains. Billing and cooing is all your cheer ;Sighing and singing of midnight strains,Under Bonnybells window panes, —Wait till you come to Forty Year! Forty times over let Michaelmas pass. Grizzling hair the brain doth clear —Then you know a boy is an you know the worth of a lass,Once you have come to Fortv Year.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1881
