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Sonnet: He mistrusts the Love of Lapo Gianni

I PRAY thee, Dante, shouldst thou meet with Love
In any place where Lapo then may be,
That there thou fail not to mark heedfully
If Love with lover's name that man approve;
If to our Master's will his lady move
Aright, and if himself show fealty:
For ofttimes, by ill custom, ye may see
This sort profess the semblance of true love.
Thou know'st that in the court where Love holds sway
A law subsists, that no man who is vile
Can service yield to a lost woman there.
If suffering aught avail the sufferer,

Love Is Teasing

I never thought that my love would leave me
Until one evening when he came in.
He sat him down and I sat beside him
And then our troubles did begin.

Oh love is teasing and love is pleasing,
And love's a pleasure when first it's new.
But as it grows older it waxes colder
And fades away like the morning dew.

There is a blackbird sits on yon tree,
Some say that he's blind and cannot see.
How I wish it had been the same by me
Before my false love I did see.

Oh I wish my father had never whistled,

Complaint That His Ladie After She Knew of His Love Kept Her Face Alway Hidden from Him

I never saw youe madam laye aparte
Your cornet black, in colde nor yet in heate,
Sythe first ye knew of my desire so greate,
Which other fances chac'd cleane from my harte.
Whiles to my self I did the thought reserve
That so unware did wounde my wofull brest,
Pytie I saw within your hart dyd rest;
But since ye knew I did youe love and serve
Your golden treese was clad alway in blacke,
Your smilyng lokes that hid thus evermore,
All that withdrawne that I did crave so sore.
So doth this cornet governe me, a lacke,

Possession

I must possess you utterly
And utterly must you possess me;
So even if that dreamer's tale
Of heaven and hell be true
There shall be two spirits rived together
Either in whatever peace be heaven
Or in the icy whirlwind that is hell
For those who loved each other more than God —
So that the other spirits shall cry out:
" Ah! Look how the ancient love yet holds to them
That these two ghosts are never driven apart
But kiss with shadowy kisses and still take
Joy from the mingling of their misty limbs! "

The Love-Talker

I MET the Love-Talker one eve in the glen,
He was handsomer than any of our handsome young men,
His eyes were blacker than the sloe, his voice sweeter far
Than the crooning of old Kevin's pipes beyond in Coolnagar.

I was bound for the milking with a heart fair and free —
My grief! my grief! that bitter hour drained the life from me;
I thought him human lover, though his lips on mine were cold,
And the breath of death blew keen on me within his hold.

I know not what way he came, no shadow fell behind,

For the Book of Love

I may be dead to-morrow, uncaressed.
My lips have never touched a woman's, none
Has given me in a look her soul, not one
Has ever held me swooning at her breast.

I have but suffered, for all nature, trees
Whipped by the winds, wan flowers, the ashen sky,
Suffered with all my nerves, minutely, I
Have suffered for my soul's impurities.

And I have spat on love, and, mad with pride,
Slaughtered my flesh, and life's revenge I brave,
And, while the whole world else was Instinct's slave,
With bitter laughter Instinct I defied.

On A Woman's Inconstancy

I loved thee once; I'll love no more--
Thine be the grief as is the blame;
Thou art not what thou wast before,
What reason I should be the same?
He that can love unloved again,
Hath better store of love than brain:
God send me love my debts to pay,
While unthrifts fool their love away!

Nothing could have my love o'erthrown
If thou hadst still continued mine;
Yea, if thou hadst remain'd thy own,
I might perchance have yet been thine.
But thou thy freedom didst recall
That it thou might elsewhere enthral:

I loved a child of this countrie

I loved a child of this countrie,
And so I wend he had do me;
Now my-self the sooth I see,
That he is far.
Were it undo that is y-do
I would be-war.

He said to me he would be true;
And change me for none other new;
Now I sykke and am pale of hue,
For he is far.
Were it undo that is y-do
I would be-war.

He said his saws he would fulfil,
Therefore I let him have all his will;
Now I sykke and mourne still,
For he is far.
Were it undo that is y-do
I would be-war.

Which Loved Best?

"I love you, Mother," said little John;
Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on,
And he was off to the garden-swing,
And left her the water and wood to bring.

"I love you, Mother," said rosy Nell —
"I love you better than tongue can tell;"
Then she teased and pouted full half the day
Till her mother rejoiced when she went to play.

"I love you, Mother," said little Fan;
"To-day I'll help you all I can;
How glad I am school doesn't keep!"
So she rocked the babe till it fell asleep.