love poem

HEIGH-HO ! my thoughts are far away;
For wine or books I have no care;
I like to think upon the way
She has of looking very fair.
Oh, work is naught, and play is naught,
And all the livelong day is naught;
There's nothing much I care to learn
But what her lovely lips have taught.

The campus cannot tempt me out,
The classics cannot keep me in;
The only place I care about
Is where perchance she may have been.
Oh, work is naught, and play is naught,
And all the livelong day is naught;

IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH .

Lapt on Cythera's golden sands,
When first True Love was born on earth;
Long was the doubt what fost'ring hands
Should tend and rear the glorious birth.

First, Hebe claim'd the sweet employ:
Her cup, her thornless flowers, she said,
Would feed him best with health and joy,
And cradle best his cherub head.

But, anxious Venus justly fear'd
The tricks and changeful mind of youth,
Too mild the seraph Peace appear'd,
Too stern, too cold, the matron Truth.

ADDRESSED TO MR. BIGGS, ON HIS HAVING SET THE MAD-SONG ,
AND MY LOVE TO WAR IS GOING .

While from your taste my humble lays acquire
Attractive charms to them till now unknown,
My muse deceived exulting strikes her lyre,
And loves her strains for graces not their own.

Have I renounc't my faith, or basely sold
Salvation, and my loyalty for gold?
Have I some forreigne practice undertooke
By poyson, shott, sharp-knife, or sharper Booke
To kill my King? have I betrayd the State
To fire and fury, or some newer Fate,
Which learned Murderers, those Grand-Destinies,
The Jesuites, have nurc'd? if of all these
I guilty am, proceed; I am content
That Mallet take mee for my punishment.
For never sinne was of so high a rate,
But one nights hell with her might expiate.

Yes ,....sweet is the joy when our blushes impart
The youthful affection that glows in the heart,
If prudence, and duty, and reason approve
The timid delight of the virgin's first love.

But if the fond virgin be destined to feel
A passion she must in her bosom conceal,
Lest parents relentless the flame disapprove,....
Where's then the delight of the virgin's first love?

If stolen the glance by which love is exprest,
If sighs when half heaved be with terror supprest,
If whispers of passion suspicion must move,

A SONG .

Never , my loved one, never!
Never my head shall lie
At peace, at rest
On thy sweet breast;
Sorrowful life have I.

Never, my loved one, never!
My heart shall cease to sigh;
Vain is my prayer
As the empty air;
Sorrowful heart have I.

Never, my loved one, never!
Never my soul's sad cry
Thy dream shall break,

One twilight was there when it seemed
New stars beneath young eyelids gleamed;

In vain the warning clock would creep
Anear the hour of beauty-sleep;

In vain the trundle yearned to hold
Far-Eyes and little Heart-of-Gold;

And love that kisses are the stuff of
At last for once there was enough of.

As though of all Affection's round
The fond climacteric had been found —

Each childish fancy heaping more,
Like spendthrift from a miser-store,

Till stopped by hug and stayed by kiss —

What Latin Sir? why there is no man
That e're thought you an English-Roman .
Your Father Horse could teach you none,
Nor was it e're your Mother tongue,
Your Education too assures
Me, that your Poem is not yours:
Besides, I thought you did detest
The Language of the Latin Beast ,
But now your Impudence I see
Did hereby shew its Modesty;
Each syllable would blush you thought,
If it had bin plain English taught,
And that your foul debauched stuff
Might do its Errand fast enough,
Forsooth your Wisedom thought it meet

Shepherd ! if you see me, fly;
And why should that thy Fears create?
Maids may be too often shy,
As well in Love, as Hate.
If from you I fly away,
'Tis because I fear to stay.

II.

Should I out of Hatred run,
Much less would be my Pains and Care.
But the Youth I love, I shun;
Who can such a Trial bear?
Who, that such a Swain could see,

A NACREONTICK .

Cupid by a Bee was stung,
Lately; since Anacreon sung:
Venus , with a smiling Eye ,
Laugh'd to hear him sob and sigh.
Angry Cupid in Revenge,
(Gods their Shapes at pleasure Change)
In the Form of Wasp or Bee,
Stella! fix'd his Sting in Thee:
Stella! fairest of the Fair:
Stella, Venus' dearest Care!
In Revenge He dealt the Blow
On her Favourite Below;
In Revenge of smiling Eyes ,
Sweetest Emblems of the Skies!