Volume Iv Part 11 (2/2)
No slander now can touch thy name, Nor Scandal's self a fault discovers, Though each new year thou hast new lovers.
Nor, Auca.s.sin, need'st thou to fear These lovers of too late a year, Nor dread one jealous pang's revival; No lover now can be thy rival.
What flower considers if its blooms Light, haunts of men, or forest glooms?
What care ye though the world discovers Your flowers of love, O flower of lovers!
Francis William Bourdillon [1852-1921]
PROVENCAL LOVERS Auca.s.sin And Nicolette
Within the garden of Beaucaire He met her by a secret stair,-- The night was centuries ago.
Said Auca.s.sin, ”My love, my pet, These old confessors vex me so!
They threaten all the pains of h.e.l.l Unless I give you up, ma belle”;-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
”Now who should there in Heaven be To fill your place, ma tres-douce mie?
To reach that spot I little care!
There all the droning priests are met; All the old cripples, too, are there That unto shrines and altars cling To filch the Peter-pence we bring”;-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
”There are the barefoot monks and friars With gowns well tattered by the briars, The saints who lift their eyes and whine: I like them not--a starveling set!
Who'd care with folk like these to dine?
The other road 'twere just as well That you and I should take, ma belle!”-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
”To purgatory I would go With pleasant comrades whom we know, Fair scholars, minstrels, l.u.s.ty knights Whose deeds the land will not forget, The captains of a hundred fights, The men of valor and degree: We'll join that gallant company,”-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
”There, too, are jousts and joyance rare, And beauteous ladies debonair, The pretty dames, the merry brides, Who with their wedded lords coquette And have a friend or two besides,-- And all in gold and trappings gay, With furs, and crests in vair and gray,”-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
”Sweet players on the cithern strings, And they who roam the world like kings, Are gathered there, so blithe and free!
Pardie! I'd join them now, my pet, If you went also, ma douce mie!
The joys of Heaven I'd forego To have you with me there below,”-- Said Auca.s.sin to Nicolette.
Edmund Clarence Stedman [1833-1908]
ON THE HURRY OF THIS TIME
With slower pen men used to write, Of old, when ”letters” were ”polite”; In Anna's or in George's days, They could afford to turn a phrase, Or trim a struggling theme aright.
They knew not steam; electric light Not yet had dazed their calmer sight;-- They meted out both blame and praise With slower pen.
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