714 My lad, if you, without abuse, Will take advice from one who's wiser, Than ever yet did your adviser; You'll have a care, some four years hence, Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837–1907] A PRIMROSE DAME SHE has a primrose at her breast, Or must I tell a story? She has a primrose at her breast, IF Gleason White [1852 OH, if the world were mine, Love, Alas! there is no sign, Love, Were I a king,-which isn't To be considered now, A diadem had glistened Upon that lovely brow. Had fame with laurels crowned me,- Nor time nor change had found me An Irish Love-Song If Death threw down his gage, Love, I'd die, e'en of old age, Love, To win a smile from thee. But being poor, we part, dear, And love, sweet love, must die; Thou wilt not break thy heart, dear, 715 James Jeffrey Roche [1847-1908] DON'T YOUR eyes were made for laughter; Would you be blithe hereafter, The rose and lily blended Possess your cheeks so fair; Care never was intended To leave his furrows there. Your heart was not created To fret itself away, By being unduly mated To common human clay. But hearts were made for loving- Forget what I've been proving, Sweet Phyllis, and love me! James Jeffrey Roche [1847-1908] AN IRISH LOVE-SONG IN the years about twenty The love of an Irish lass fell to my fate So winsome and sightly, So saucy and sprightly, The priest was a prophet that christened her Kate. Soft gray of the dawning, Bright blue of the morning, The sweet of her eye there was nothing to mate; A nose like a fairy's, A cheek like a cherry's, And a smile-well, her smile was like-nothing but Kate. To see her was passion, To love her, the fashion; What wonder my heart was unwilling to wait! I soon did discover A Katherine masking in mischievous Kate. No Katy unruly But Katherine, truly Fond, serious, patient, and even sedate; With a glow in her gladness That banishes sadness Yet stay! Should I credit the sunshine to Kate? Love cannot outlive it, Wealth cannot o'ergive it The saucy surrender she made at the gate. O Time, be but human, Spare the girl in the woman! You gave me my Katherine-leave me my Kate! Robert Underwood Johnson [1853 GROWING OLD SWEET sixteen is shy and cold, Calls me "sir," and thinks me old; Finds my homage quite a bore, In Explanation Not the lines around my eye, Not white hairs that strew my head, Cares I find, nor joys I miss, Make me feel my years like this: Sweet sixteen is shy and coid, Calls me "sir," and thinks me old. Walter Learned [1847 TIME'S REVENGE WHEN I was ten and she fifteen- The homage that I brought her, "It's really quite absurd, you see; IN EXPLANATION HER lips were so near That-what else could I do? You'll be angry, I fear. Or explain it to you. Walter Learned [1847 717 OMNIA VINCIT LONG from the lists of love I stood aloof My heart was steeled and I was beauty-proof; My practice was, in easy-chair reclined, Love, I said in my wisdom, Love is dead, Doled forth by Intellect to Intellect. Yet when Love, taking vengeance, smote me sore, It was no Girton trumpet that laid low For when my peace of mind at length was stole, I thought no whit of Intellect or Soul, Nay! I was cast in pitiful distress By brown eyes wide with truth and tenderness. Alfred Cochrane [1865 A PASTORAL ALONG the lane beside the mead |