love poetry

THE VICTORY OF LOVE

Beloved I come to tell you it is Spring!
The old brown earth puts forth pale buds again;
Pierced by the silver arrows of the rain
Her wounded breasts bleed blossoms, violets cling
Across your grave ... and how the wild birds sing!
Safe sheathed in sunshine is fate's sword of pain,
But Beauty beckons to my soul in vain,
Since you are dead what comfort can she bring?
Oh, Lover, I am striving to forget,
But your gay laughter haunts me, and I still
Hunger to hear your voice, that used to thrill

A DELE is gayly anecdotal of
The whims and eccentricities of friends.
" Don't think from what I've said, " her story ends.
" That Sue's not sweet! She is! A perfect love! "
Making a dove of Sue, she soils the dove,
Assumes attack and speciously defends,
Plants little lisping doubts and still pretends
She loves that girl all lovely girls above.

Behind Adele's white teeth her pretty tongue
Lies coiled to strike without a warning hiss:
She smiles upon the victim newest stung
And marks the next for poison with a kiss;

Beauty, Love's Friend, who help'st him to a Throne,
By Wisdom Deify'd, to whom alone
Thy Excellence is known,
And ne're neglected but by those have none;
Thou noble Coyn, by no false sleight allay'd,
By whom we Lovers Militant are paid,
True to the Touch, and ever best
When thou art brought unto the Test,
And who do'st still of higher value prove.
As deeper thou art search'd by Love.
He who allows thee only in the Light
Is there mistaken quite,
For there we only see the outer skin,

ACT. V. S CEN. VIII.

Misander, Leucasia, Chryse, Euthalpe, Priest, Eudemus, Timophilus, Cleodemus, Patacion,
Epigenes, Scedasus, Terpander.

Mis. Must there be something still to cross our joys?
What is the matter here?
Phi. A Fury, a Fury!
Yonder he slinks.
Cal. And 't please your Majesty
I am no Fury, I'm a Captain, one
They call Callimachus by daylight Sir;
The Angel Sir, the Angel!

ACT. V. S CEN VII.

Nicias slinks in, and placeth himself as behind a
Pillar to take the sight; Callimachus after him
dress'd as a Fury .

Call. Well! a Male Fiend is fit for a She Fury;
Like must to like; so I unto this Widdow.
If any of my Coat should come and take
Acquaintance of me for a recall Fiend,
And find me tripping, I've no other way
But just to swear him down I am a true one

ACT . V. S CEN . VI.

Prusias drest like an Angell with a Caduceus in one
hand, and a Taper in the other .

Prus. Thou art an Angell, Prusids , therfore fit
To be receiv'd into her heav'nly Bosome.
She shapes thee in an Habit, that she'l wed thee.
Truly, I think all Courtiers would be Angels,
If that they were not giv'n so much to th' flesh,
That keeps 'em all from Heav'n. But why should I
Be set to guard a Coffin? If there doe

ACT V. S CEN . V.

Philostratus in a Winding-sheet to perform the
Injunction of the Widdow .

Phil. I have not seen the inside of a Temple
These twelve Months til this time, & now I come
Commanded too: Hell's in this damned Widdow.
What doth she mean to make me lye in a Coffin?
I am not fit for Death, although I think
I'm very forward towards it: Somthing in
My Bones doth tell me so. But let that passe.
If Death should go to claim me now, I were

ACT . V. S CEN . IV.

To them Pyle, Eudemus .

Pyl . Make room for heaven's sake; pray y' quit the Place.
What, will you stifle her with this Multitude?
Mis. Thunder it self shall not remove me hence.
[Leucasia awakens and casts her Eye on Misander.]
Leuc. O! who disturbs the quiet of my Soul
I'd been by this time at Elysium
Had none molested me. But I am glad

ACT . V. S CEN . III.

Leucasia discover'd sleeping, Misander,
Cleodemus, Timophilus, Patacion, Scedasus,
Epigenes, Terpander, Euthalpe .

Mis. Is it still death if I begin to love?
Euth. And can I live if she begin to dye?
To tear mine hair is Womanish; to forerun
And lead the way t' Elyzium but a duty
She would not thank me for: if that some God,
Envious of honest fires, hath destin'd ruine

ACT . V. S CEN . II.

To him Pyle .

Pyl. Come,
Make haste; conduct m', Eudemus ; sleeps Misander?
Hath he drunk deep and largely?
Eud. Hatefull Woman!
If thou hast any poison here about thee
Beside thy malice, doe one deed of Charity;
Infuse it into me: Shew here the vigor
Of that thy damned Art. Vile Sorceresse!
Look me to death: for every glance of thine
Should carry Fate with it. Thou'rt slack, when that