Volume Ii Part 32 (1/2)

For all these arts, I'd not believe (No! though he should be thine!), The mighty Amorist could give So rich a heart as mine!

Fortune and beauty thou might'st find, And greater men than I; But my true resolved mind They never shall come nigh.

For I not for an hour did love, Or for a day desire, But with my soul had from above This endless holy fire.

Henry Vaughan [1622-1695]

THE La.s.s OF RICHMOND HILL

On Richmond Hill there lives a la.s.s More bright than May-day morn, Whose charms all other maids surpa.s.s,-- A rose without a thorn.

This la.s.s so neat, with smiles so sweet, Has won my right good-will; I'd crowns resign to call her mine, Sweet la.s.s of Richmond Hill.

Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air, And wanton through the grove, O, whisper to my charming fair, I die for her I love.

How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own!

O, may her choice be fixed on me!

Mine's fixed on her alone.

James Upton [1670-1749]

SONG From ”Sunday Up the River”

Let my voice ring out and over the earth, Through all the grief and strife, With a golden joy in a silver mirth: Thank G.o.d for life!

Let my voice swell out through the great abyss To the azure dome above, With a chord of faith in the harp of bliss: Thank G.o.d for Love!

Let my voice thrill out beneath and above, The whole world through: O my Love and Life, O my Life and Love, Thank G.o.d for you!

James Thomson [1834-1882]

GIFTS From ”Sunday Up the River”

Give a man a horse he can ride, Give a man a boat he can sail; And his rank and wealth, his strength and health, On sea nor sh.o.r.e shall fail.

Give a man a pipe he can smoke, Give a man a book he can read: And his home is bright with a calm delight, Though the room be poor indeed.

Give a man a girl he can love, As I, O my love, love thee; And his heart is great with the pulse of Fate, At home, on land, on sea.

James Thomson [1834-1882]

AMYNTA

My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-crook, And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook; No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wove; For ambition, I said would soon cure me of love.

Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do?