Give them just a little love,
These poor creatures with no traces
Of the lovely in their faces.
Though they take your gift with scorning,
Though they grieve you night and morning;
In the name of God above,
Give them just a little love.

Give them just a little love,
Touch their hands in friendly fashion,
Speak to them in kind compassion,
Tell them of the Heavenly City,
With its everlasting pity,
In the name of God above;
Give them just a little love.

Give them just a little love,
These poor creatures. On their faces

Roll thee in my Lowlan plaidie
Nestle cozey by my side
Love wi me and be my ladie
And we love on in world sae wide

Ro[ll] thee in my Tartan Plaidie
Cozey sit upon my knee
In thy Tartan silk sweet lady
Thy lovely form is sweet to see

Ro[ll] thee in my Tartan Plaidie
Let me gaze upon thy charms
Thou a bonny beauteous lady
Come unto thy Lovers arms

With thy ancles scarce a span
Thou an armful art sweet lady
Come thou better half o'man
Ro[ll] thee in my Tartan Pladie

Remember dear Mary love cannot deceive
Loves truth cannot vary dear Mary believe
You may hear and believe it believe it and hear
Love could not deceive it those features so dear
Believe me dear Mary to press thy soft hand
Is sweeter than riches in houses and Land.

Where I pressed thy soft hand at the dew fall o' eve
I felt the sweet tremble that cannot deceive
If love you believe in Belief is my love
As it lived once in Eden ere we fell from above
To this heartless this friendless this desolate earth
And kept in first love Immortality's birth

Pass where the winds pause before they cross,
pass where the clouds pause before they cross,
the pass of Changsong ridge
where wild-born falcons,
tamed falcons,
peregrine falcons,
and yearling falcons pause before they cross—
If they said my love were over the pass,
I would cross it without a pause.

Love is blind, and a wanton;
In the whole world, there is scant one
Such another:
No, not his mother.
He hath plucked her doves, and sparrows,
To feather his sharp arrows,
And alone prevaileth,
While sick Venus waileth.
But if Cypris once recover
The wag; it shall behove her
To look better to him;
Or she will undo him.
(from Poetaster)

T'was in the month of April when birds all merry sing
I took a walk to Kingsthorp right early i' the spring
I took a walk to Kingsthorp right early i' the day
And there I met my true love go barefoot by the way

Her ancles they were handsome and lovely was her feet
Her face was like an Irish girls and beautifully sweet
She passed me like a stranger I think I see her still
I could not tell my own true love in such a dissabille

Her eyes were like two diamonds and a woman all complete
I could have knelt on both my knees and kissed her very feet

Let faire or foule my Mistresse be,
Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me:
Or let her walk, or stand, or sit,
The posture hers, I'm pleas'd with it.
Or let her tongue be still, or stir,
Gracefull is ev'ry thing from her.
Or let her Grant, or else Deny,
My Love will fit each Historie.

I wonder did you ever count
The value of one human fate;
Or sum the infinite amount
Of one heart's treasures, and the weight
Of Life's one venture, and the whole concentrate purpose of a soul.

And if you ever pause to think
That all this in your hands I laid
Without a fear:—did you not shrink
From such a burden? half afraid,
Half wishing that you could divide the risk, or cast it all aside.

While Love has daily perils, such
As none foresee and none control;
And hearts are strung so that one touch,
Careless or rough, may jar the whole,

If you had not been here
Or I had not chanced by—
Oh, let's not think of that, my dear,
And let's not even try;

For Spring fills all the year
And Love lights all the sky,
Since you—thank God!—are you, my dear,
And here, thank God! am I!

I love it, I love it, and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old bike there?
I've treasured it long as a sainted prize,
And its battered old frame brings the tears to my eyes;
'Tis bound with a thousand bands to my heart,
Though the sprocket's bent and the links are apart.
Would you know the spell? My grandma sat there,
Upon that old saddle, and zipped through the air.
In childhood's hour I lingered near
That old machine, with listening ear,
For grandma's shrieks through the house would ring
If I even happened to touch the thing.