Volume Ii Part 47 (1/2)

THE LAST WORD

When I have folded up this tent And laid the soiled thing by, I shall go forth 'neath different stars, Under an unknown sky.

And yet whatever house I find Beneath the gra.s.s or snow Will ne'er be tenantless of love Or lack the face I know.

O lips--wild roses wet with rain!

Blown hair of drifted brown!

O pa.s.sionate eyes! O panting heart-- When in that colder town

I lie, the one inhabitant, My hands across my breast, How warm through all eternity The summer of my rest!

To each frail root beneath the ground That thrusts its flower above, I shall impart a fiercer sap-- I who have known your love!

And growing things will lean to me To learn what love hath won, Till I shall whisper to the dust That secret of the Sun.

Yea, though my spirit never wake To hear the voice I knew, Even an endless sleep would be Stirred by the dreams of You!

Frederic Lawrence Knowles [1869-1905]

”HEART OF MY HEART”

Heart of my heart, my life, my light!

If you were lost what should I do?

I dare not let you from my sight Lest Death should fall in love with you.

Such countless terrors lie in wait!

The G.o.ds know well how dear you are!

What if they left me desolate And plucked and set you for their star!

Then hold me close, the G.o.ds are strong, And perfect joy so rare a flower No man may hope to keep it long-- And I may lose you any hour.

Then kiss me close, my star, my flower!

So shall the future grant me this: That there was not a single hour We might have kissed, and did not kiss!

Unknown

MY LADDIE

Oh, my laddie, my laddie, I lo'e your very plaidie, I lo'e your very bonnet Wi' the silver buckle on it, I lo'e your collie Harry, I lo'e the kent ye carry; But oh! it's past my power to tell How much, how much I lo'e yoursel!

Oh, my dearie, my dearie, I could luik an' never weary At your een sae blue an' iaughin', That a heart o' stane wad saften, While your mouth sae proud an' curly Gars my heart gang tirlie-wirlie; But oh! yoursel, your very sel, I lo'e ten thousand times as well!

Oh! my darlin', my darlin', Let's flit whaur flits the starlin', Let's loll upo' the heather A' this bonny, bonny weather; Ye shall fauld me in your plaidie, My luve, my luve, my laddie; An' close, an' close into your ear I'll tell ye how I lo'e ye, dear.

Amelie Rives [1863-

THE SHADED POOL

A laughing knot of village maids Goes gaily tripping to the brook, For water-nymphs they mean to be, And seek some still, secluded nook.