Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . SONGS FROM PIPPA PASSES III Give her but a least excuse to love me! When—where—How—can this arm establish her above meIf fortune fixed her as my lady there,There already, to eternally reprove me ?( Hist—said Kate the queen ;But oh— cried the maiden, binding her tresses, Tis only a page that carols unseenCrumbling your hounds their jnesses !) Is she wronged ?—To the rescue of her honour. My heart! Is she poor?—What costs it to be styled a donor? Merely an earths to cleave, a seas to part! But that fortune should have thrust allthis up
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . SONGS FROM PIPPA PASSES III Give her but a least excuse to love me! When—where—How—can this arm establish her above meIf fortune fixed her as my lady there,There already, to eternally reprove me ?( Hist—said Kate the queen ;But oh— cried the maiden, binding her tresses, Tis only a page that carols unseenCrumbling your hounds their jnesses !) Is she wronged ?—To the rescue of her honour. My heart! Is she poor?—What costs it to be styled a donor? Merely an earths to cleave, a seas to part! But that fortune should have thrust allthis upon her! ( Nay, list—bade Kate the queen ; And still cried the maiden, binding her tresses, Tis only a page that carols unseen^ Fitting your hawks their jesses ! ). SONGS FROM PIPPA PASSES IV A KING lived long ago, In the morning of the world, When earth was nigher heaven than now : And the kings locks curled Disparting oer a forehead full As the milk-white space twixt horn and horn Of some sacrificial bull— Only calm as a babe new-born : For he was got to a sleepy mood. So safe from all decrepitude, From age with its bane, so sure gone by, (The Gods so loved him while he dreamed,) That, having lived thus long, there seemed No need the king should ever die. Among the rocks his city was:Before his palace, in the sun, He sate to see his people pass, ! And judge them every one j From its threshold of smooth stone. | They haled him many a valley-thief | Caught in the sheep-pens—robber-chief, I Swarthy and shameless—beggar-cheat— j Spy-prowler—or some pirate foundOn the sea-sand left aground ;And sometimes clung about his bleeding lip and burning cheek,A woman, bitterest wrong to speakOf one with sullen thickset brows :And sometime
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
