God be with trewthe wher he be!
I wolde he were in this cuntree.

A man that shuld of trewthe telle,
With grete lordes he may not dwelle;
In trewe story, as clerkes telle,
Trewthe is put in low degree.

In ladyes chaumbers cometh he not;
Ther dare trewthe setten non fot;
Though he wolde, he may not
Comen among the high menee.

With men of lawe he hath none space;
They loven trewthe in none place;
Me thinketh they han a rewly grace
That trewthe is put at swich degree.

In holy cherche he may not sitte;

God be with thee, my belov├¿d, — God be with thee!
Else alone thou goest forth,
Thy face unto the north,
Moor and pleasance all around thee and beneath thee
Looking equal in one snow;
While I, who try to reach thee,
Vainly follow, vainly follow

God bade the birds break not the silent spell
That lay upon the wood.
Longing for liquid notes that never fell
Ached the deep solitude.

The little birds obeyed. No voice awoke.
Dwelling sedate, apart,
Only the thrush, the thrush that never spoke,
Sang from her bursting heart.

A Goat was nibbling on a Vine,
On glossy leaves and tendrils fine:
" Why wilt thou rend me thus, alas —
And is there then no good in grass?
But when the vintage comes, I'll be,
Thou bearded Goat, revenged on thee —
For at the altar 'twill be mine
To furnish to the priest the wine
Which he with pious lips and eyes
Shall pour o'er thee, thou sacrifice
To Dionysos, god of grapes. "

The goat-herd follows his flock
Over the sandy plain,
And the goats nibble the rabbit-bush
Acrid with desert rain.

Old Juan Quintana's coat
Is a faded purple blue,
And his hat is a warm plum-brown,
And his trousers a tawny hue.

He is sunburnt like the hills,
And his eyes have a strange goat-look;
And when I came on him alone,
He suddenly quivered and shook.

Out in the hills all day
The trees do funny things—
And a horse shaped like a man
Rose up from the ground on wings.

And a burro came and stood

Go to him, ah, go to him, and lift your eyes aglow to him;
— Fear not royally to give whatever he may claim;
All your spirit's treasury scruple not to show to him.
— He is noble; meet him with a pride too high for shame.

Say to him, ah, say to him, that soul and body sway to him;
— Cast away the cowardice that counsels you to flight,
Lest you turn at last to find that you have lost the way to him,
— Lest you stretch your arms in vain across a starless night.

Be to him, ah, be to him, the key that sets joy free to him,

Go to bed early wake up with joy;
Go to bed late — cross girl or boy.
Go to bed early — ready for play;
Go to bed late — moping all day.
Go to bed early — no pains or ills;
Go to bed late — doctors and pills.
Go to bed early — grow very tall;
Go to bed late — stay very small.

Go thou, that vainly dost mine eyes invite
To taste the softer comforts of the night,
And bid'st me cool the fever of my brain
In those sweet balmy dews which slumber pain;
Enjoy thine own peace in untroubled sleep,
Whilst my sad thoughts eternal vigils keep.

Oh, couldst thou for a time change breasts with me,
Thou in that broken glass shouldst plainly see
A heart, which wastes in the slow smothering fire
Blown by despair and fed by false desire,
Can only reap such sleeps as seamen have
When fierce winds rock them on the foaming wave.

GO thou and seek the House of Prayer!
I to the woodlands wend, and there
In lovely Nature see the God of Love.
The swelling organ's peal
Wakes not my soul to zeal,
Like the sweet music of the vernal grove.
The gorgeous altar and the mystic vest
Excite not such devotion in my breast,
As where the noon-tide beam,
Flash'd from some broken stream,
Vibrates on the dazzled sight;
Or where the cloud-suspended rain
Sweeps in shadows o'er the plain;
Or when, reclining on the cliff's huge height,

Go tell him to clear me one acre of ground,
Setherwood, sale, rosemary and thyme,
Betwixt the sea and the sea-land side,
And then he'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to plough it all up with an old leather plough,
Setherwood, sale, rosemary and thyme,
And hoe it all over with a pea-fowl's feather,
And then he'll be a true lover of mine.

Go tell him to plant it all over with one grain of corn,
And reap it all down with an old ram's horn.

Go tell him to shock it in yonder sea,
And return it back to me all dry.