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And whenas my lids brim over with tears, lest the spy should see And come to fathom my secret, "My eye is sore," I say. Of old I was empty-hearted and knew not what love was; But now I am passion's bondman, my heart to love's a prey. To thee I prefer my petition, complaining of passion and pain, So haply thou mayst be softened and pity my dismay.
The child's large eyes seemed to light up the ugly shadows of the old-fashioned mushroom hat she wore, the soft bow of her mouth was like a little Love's, she bloomed with an angelic innocence, and in her straight sweet look was the unconscious question of a child-woman creature at the dawn of life. John Baird stood looking down at the heavenly, tender little face.
Flung from her eyes of purest blue, A lasso, with its leaping chain Light as a loop of larkspurs, flew O'er sense and spirit, heart and brain. Thou com'st to cheer my waning age, Sweet vision, waited for so long! Dove that would seek the poet's cage Lured by the magic breath of song! She blushes! Ah, reluctant maid, Love's drapeau rouge the truth has told!
The true freedom is when, by the direction of our will, we change 'must' into 'I delight to do Thy will. So we are set free from the bondage and burden of a law that is external, and is not loved, and are brought into the liberty of, for dear love's sake, doing the will of the beloved. 'Myself shall to my darling be Both law and impulse, says one of the poets about a far inferior matter.
Though the draught be delicious as the wines of Cypress, and though the goblet be crowned with flowers, fragrant as the perfume of love's sighs a coiled serpent lurks in the dregs of the cup, whose deadly fang will strike deep in the heart and leave there the cankering sores of remorse and dark despair.
Well, girl, once I was beautiful as you and as loving and beloved, and I can do them for my love's sake for my love's sake. Nay, I do not do them, they are done through me. The Sword am I, the Sword!
She has nothing against him; but of course it'll be love's labor lost on his side. I suppose he doesn't know that yet, poor fellow. All she can do is to ignore the signs, and avoid him as much as possible, and not hurt his feelings. It's a pity." "What is?" "That she isn't open to new impressions, you know what I mean.
'Yes! she said sadly; 'love is the best, and it is for love's sake we will do the best. 'There is no better work than here. Surely this is best, and he pictured his plans before her. She listened eagerly. 'Oh! if it should be right, she cried, 'I will do what you say. You are good, you are wise, you shall tell me. She could not have recalled him better.
Never was a more graceful apology for the function of the critic put forward than that of Balaustion: 'Tis the poet speaks: But if I, too, should try and speak at times, Leading your love to where my love, perchance, Climbed earlier, found a nest before you knew Why, bear with the poor climber, for love's sake!
A light laugh, and the window closed, "Good-night! Sleep well!" Love's best wish! and for some sad souls life's last hope, a "good-night and sleep well!" Poor tired World, for whose weary inhabitants oftentimes the greatest blessing is sleep! Good-night! sleep well! but the sleep implies waking. waking to a morning of pleasure or sorrow, or labor that is only lightened by, Love!
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