Volume Ii Part 157 (1/2)

On fields of strange men's feet, Or fields near home?

Or where the fire-flowers blow, Or where the flowers of snow Or flowers of foam?

We are in love's hand to-day--

Land me, she says, where love Shows but one shaft, one dove, One heart, one hand,-- A sh.o.r.e like that, my dear, Lies where no man will steer, No maiden land.

Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]

MARY BEATON'S SONG From ”Chastelard”

Between the sunset and the sea My love laid hands and lips on me; Of sweet came sour, of day came night, Of long desire came brief delight: Ah love, and what thing came of thee Between the sea-downs and the sea?

Between the sea-mark and the sea Joy grew to grief, grief grew to me; Love turned to tears, and tears to fire, And dead delight to new desire; Love's talk, love's touch there seemed to be Between the sea-sand and the sea.

Between the sundown and the sea Love watched one hour of love with me; Then down the all-golden water-ways His feet flew after yesterday's; I saw them come and saw them flee Between the sea-foam and the sea.

Between the sea-strand and the sea Love fell on sleep, sleep fell on me; The first star saw twain turn to one Between the moonrise and the sun; The next, that saw not love, saw me Between the sea-banks and the sea.

Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]

PLIGHTED

Mine to the core of the heart, my beauty!

Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty: Love given willingly, full and free, Love for love's sake,--as mine to thee.

Duty's a slave that keeps the keys, But Love, the master, goes in and out Of his goodly chambers with song and shout, Just as he please,--just as he please.

Mine, from the dear head's crown, brown-golden, To the silken foot that's scarce beholden; Give to a few friends hand or smile, Like a generous lady, now and awhile, But the sanctuary heart, that none dare win, Keep holiest of holiest evermore; The crowd in the aisles may watch the door, The high-priest only enters in.

Mine, my own, without doubts or terrors, With all thy goodnesses, all thy errors, Unto me and to me alone revealed, ”A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.”

Many may praise thee,--praise mine as thine, Many may love thee,--I'll love them too; But thy heart of hearts, pure, faithful, and true, Must be mine, mine wholly, and only mine.

Mine!--G.o.d, I thank Thee that Thou hast given Something all mine on this side heaven: Something as much myself to be As this my soul which I lift to Thee: Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, Life of my life, whom Thou dost make Two to the world for the world's work's sake,-- But each unto each, as in Thy sight, one.

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik [1826-1887]

A WOMAN'S QUESTION

Before I trust my fate to thee, Or place my hand in thine, Before I let thy future give Color and form to mine, Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to-night for me.

I break all slighter bonds, nor feel A shadow of regret: Is there one link within the past That holds thy spirit yet?

Or is thy faith as clear and free as that which I can pledge to thee?