This is the reckless thing I do,
Simply because her eyes are blue,
As are the summer skies above her; —
Merely because her eyes are blue,
This is the foolish thing I do,
I love, love, love her.

Even while chopping
the dried vegetables
her heart was aflutter

When the horse stays in
the groom makes love at home.

" Here lieth love. " Deep lettered on a stone
Are these few words, but never name and date
To say what heart would so commemorate
A dear dead love, or by what hand were strewn
The withered roses. Hither, thither blown,
A willow's branches quiver with a freight
Of melody that seems articulate;
But men who listen merely catch a moan —
" Here lieth love. "

Mine are the roses and the dead love there.
But silence! breathe no names; it were not meet
That she should know love perished from despair

A cat's wife —
grown thin from
love and barley?

Take me, O my Father! take me —
Take me, save me, through thy Son;
That which thou wouldst have me, make me,
Let thy will in me be done.

Long from thee my footsteps straying,
Thorny proved the way I trod;
Weary come I now, and praying —
Take me to thy love, my God!

Fruitless years with grief recalling,
Humbly I confess my sin!
At thy feet, O Father, falling,
To thy household take me in.

Freely now to thee I proffer,
This relenting heart of mine;
Freely, life and soul I offer,

Wee Shemus was a misdropt man
Without a shoulder to his back;
He had the way to lift a rann
And throttled rabbits in a sack.

And red-haired Mary whom he wed,
Brought him but thirty shillings told;
She had but one eye in her head,
But Shemus counted it for gold.

The two went singing in the hay
Or kissing underneath the sloes,
And where they chanced to pass the day
There was no need to scare the crows.

But now with Mary waked and laid
As decent as she lived and died,
Poor Shemus went to buy a spade

I called for love;
And at the name,
From a black sky
White lightning came.

I called for love,
Then sank abashed;
From a dumb cloud
Wild thunder crashed.

The gulls are mad-in-love with the river
And the river unveils her face and smiles.
In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings.
She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her.
He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her.
There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter.
Be careful, my beautiful waking one! you will catch on fire.
Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their breasts
The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings
Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean.

The Cupid child tired of the winter day
Wept and lamented for the skies of blue
Till, foolish child! he cried his eyes away—
And violets grew.

Wild roses hidden in the hedge
Surrender to the lips of June;
White lilies cloistered in the sedge
Permit the kisses of the moon.

And oh, my heart desires your love,
As never June desires a rose,
And never the pale moon above
Such longing for a lily knows.

And yet your love I vainly seek,
Unto my love no love replies,
No blush gives answer in your cheek,
No passion lightens in your eyes.

Ardent as June I watch and wait,
Pale as the moon I pace your sky;
O Lady, be compassionate,
And kiss and love me, or I die.