“ The lark above our heads doth know
The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest
The Maid I love ne'er thought of me
The yellow moon is a dancing phantom
The young moon is white
There be none of beauty's daughters
There is a garden where lilies
There is no friend like an old friend
Though cruel fate should bid us part
Thou hast beauty bright and fair
Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air
'Tis not your beauty can engage
Traverse not the globe for lore!
Trust thou thy Love: if she be proud, is she not sweet?
Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward
Unless with my Amanda blest ”

“ Can never poet say.
—Frederic William Henry Myers
Romance
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will make a palace fit for you and me,
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.
I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,
Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,
And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white
In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.
And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear! ”

“ Song
The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest,
And climbing, shakes his dewy wings,
He takes your window for the east,
And to implore your light, he sings;
Awake, awake, the morn will never rise
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,
The ploughman from the sun his season takes;
But still the lover wonders what they are,
Who look for day before his mistress wakes. ”

“ Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward,
Couch'd with her arms behind her golden head,
Knees and tresses folded to slip and ripple idly,
Lies my young love sleeping in the shade.
Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her,
Press her parting lips as her waist I gather slow,
Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me:
Then would she hold me and never let me go?
Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow,
Swift as the swallow along the river's light
Circleting the surface to meet his mirror'd winglets,
Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight. ”

“ My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
—Christina Georgina Rossetti
"Love in thy Youth, Fair Maid"
Love in thy youth, fair maid, be wise,
Old Time will make thee colder,
And though each morning new arise
Yet we each day grow older. ”

“ There's not a bonnie bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean.
—Robert Burns
O Mistress Mine, Where Are You Roaming?
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in Lovers' meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter:
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty
Youth's a stuff will not endure. ”

“ She bade me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
—William Butler Yeats
Song
She's somewhere in the sunlight strong,
Her tears are in the falling rain,
She calls me in the wind's soft song,
And with the flowers she comes again.
Yon bird is but her messenger,
The moon is but her silver car. ”

“ O fairest of the rural maids!
O mark yon Rose-tree! When the West
O, Mistress mine, where are you roaming
O, to be in England
Oh thou that from the green vales of the West
Oh, what a plague is love! ”

“ Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! ”

“ Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.
Ye shepherds so gay, who make love to ensnare,
And cheat with false vows the too credulous fair,
In search of true pleasure how vainly you roam,
To hold it for life, you must find it at home. ”

“ Manner noble, aspect free,
Eyes that are untouch'd by care;
What then do we ask from thee?
Hermione, Hermione!
Thou hast reason quick and strong,
Wit that envious men admire,
And a voice, itself a song! ”

“ William Somerville
Song
Hard is the fate of him who loves,
Yet dares not tell his trembling pain,
But to the sympathetic groves,
But to the lonely listening plain.
Oh! when she blesses next your shade,
Oh! ”

“ Say, mighty love, and teach my song
Send home my long stray'd eyes to me
Shall I, wasting in despaire
She can be as wise as we
She is not fair to outward view
She's somewhere in the sunlight strong
She was not as pretty as women I know
Stone walls do not a prison make
Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content ”

“ O'er humble love, had made me sadly fear thee;
For never sure was seen a royal bride,
Whose gentleness gave grace to so much pride—
My very thoughts would tremble to be near thee:
But when I see thee at thy father's side,
Old times unqueen thee, and old loves endear thee. ”

“ These screech owls' feathers and this prickling briar,
This cypress gathered at a dead man's grave,
That all my fears and cares an end may have.
Then come, you Fairies! dance with me a round!
Melt her hard heart with your melodious sound!
In vain are all the charms I can devise:
She hath an art to break them with her eyes.
—Thomas Campion
Come, O come, my life's delight! ”

“ Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, and hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals. ”

“ I will make your brooches and toys for your delight
Jenny kissed me when we met
Like to the falling of the star
Love in thy youth, fair maid, be wise
Love guides the roses of thy lips
Love not me for comely grace ”

“ By flame-tipp'd arrows from the Archer's bow.
Perchance he envies me,—the villain! O
For one tree's shadow or a cliff-side grot!
Where shall I shelter that he slay me not?
In what cool air or element?—I know.
The sea shall save me from the sweltering land:
Far out I'll wade, till creeping up and up,
The cold green water quenches every limb. ”

“ She never found fault with you, never implied
Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side
Grew nobler, girls purer, as thro' the whole town
The children were gladder that pull'd at her gown—
My Kate.
None knelt at her feet confess'd lovers in thrall ”

“ A Japanese Love Song
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
A beautiful and happy girl
Better trust all, and be deceived
Bid me to live, and I will live
Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing
Celia, confess, 'tis all in vain
Chicken skin, delicate, white
Choose me your Valentine
Come live with me, and be my love
Come, O come, my life's delight
Cupid and my Campaspe played ”

“ Cupid Mistaken
Song: Hard is the fate of him who loves
To a discarded toast
Thomas Walker. (Born 1698—Died 1743.)
Sweet love, I will no more abuse thee
James Thomson. (Born 1700—Died 1748.)
Unless with my Amanda blest
George Lyttleton. (Born 1709—Died 1773.)
Song: When Delia on the plain appear
Edward Moore. (Born 1711—Died 1757.)
Song: How blest has my time been
John Wilke. (Born 1727—Died 1797.)
Love not me for comely grace
Robert Burns. (Born 1759—Died 1796.)
Delia
My Jean
Of A' the Airts the Wind Can Blaw
The Bonnie Wee Thing
Sir Walter Scott. ”

“ To his Mistress
To his Mistress, Objecting to his Neither Toying nor Talking
To the Virgins, to make much of Time
Henry King. (Born 1592—Died 1669.)
On the Life of Man
Thomas Bateson. (Born 1600—Died (no record) .)
Her hair the net of golden wire
Sir William D'Avenant. (Born 1605—Died 1668.)
The Lark now Leaves his Watr'y Nest
Edmund Waller. (Born 1605—Died 1687.)
Song: Go Lovely Rose
Song to Flavia
Sir John Suckling. (Born 1609—Died 1641.)
Why so pale and wan, fond lover
Song: O pr'y thee send me back my heart
The Constant Lover
Richard Lovelace. ”