Part 6 (1/2)

Once more the Knights and ladies pa.s.s In visions Fancy-wove: I lie full length in summer gra.s.s, To choose my own True-Love.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know not how,--I know not where,-- I dream a fairy-spell: I know she is surpa.s.sing fair,-- I know I love her well.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know she is as pure as snow:-- As true as G.o.d's own Truth:-- I know,--I know I love her so, She must love me, in sooth!

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know the stars dim to her eyes; The flowers blow in her face: I know the angels in the skies Have given her of their grace.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

And none but I her heart can move, Though seraphs may have striven; And when I find my own True-love, I know I shall find Heaven.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be!

I will seek my Love with the wings of a dove And pray her to love but me.

TO CLAUDIA

It is not, Claudia, that thine eyes Are sweeter far to me, Than is the light of Summer skies To captives just set free.

It is not that the setting sun Is tangled in thy hair, And recks not of the course to run, In such a silken snare.

Nor for the music of thy words, Fair Claudia, love I thee, Though sweeter than the songs of birds That melody to me.

It is not that rich roses rare Within thy garden grow, Nor that the fairest lilies are Less snowy than thy brow.

Nay, Claudia, 't is that every grace In thy dear self I find; That Heaven itself is in thy face, And also in thy mind.

THE APPLE-TREES AT EVEN

Ah! long ago it seems to me, Those sweet old days of summer, When I was young and fair was she, And sorrow only rumor.