The Home Book of Verse - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
TWO LOVERS
Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrashes sing.
O budding time!
O love's blest prime!
Two wedded from the portal stept: The bells made happy carolings, The air was soft as fanning wings, White petals on the pathway slept.
O pure-eyed bride!
O tender pride!
Two faces o'er a cradle bent: Two hands above the head were locked: These pressed each other while they rocked, Those watched a life that love had sent.
O solemn hour!
O hidden power!
Two parents by the evening fire: The red light fell about their knees On heads that rose by slow degrees Like buds upon the lily spire.
O patient life!
O tender strife!
The two still sat together there, The red light shone about their knees; But all the heads by slow degrees Had gone and left that lonely pair.
O voyage fast!
O vanished past!
The red light shone upon the floor And made the s.p.a.ce between them wide; They drew their chairs up side by side, Their pale cheeks joined, and said, "Once more!"
O memories!
O past that is!
George Eliot [1819-1880]
THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE
"Somewhere," he mused, "its dear enchantments wait, That land, so heavenly sweet; Yet all the paths we follow, soon or late, End in the desert's heat.
"And still it lures us to the eager quest, And calls us day by day"-- "But I," she said, her babe upon her breast "But I have found the way."
"Some time," he sighed, "when youth and joy are spent, Our feet the gates may win"-- "But I," she smiled, with eyes of deep content, "But I have entered in."
Emily Huntington Miller [1833-1913]
MY AIN WIFE
I wadna gi'e my ain wife For ony wife I see; I wadna gi'e my ain wife For ony wife I see; A bonnier yet I've never seen, A better canna be-- I wadna gi'e my ain wife For ony wife I see!
O couthie is my ingle-cheek, An' cheerie is my Jean; I never see her angry look, Nor hear her word on ane.
She's gude wi' a' the neebors roun'
An' aye gude wi' me-- I wadna gi'e my ain wife For ony wife I see.
An' O her looks sae kindlie, They melt my heart outright, When o'er the baby at her breast She hangs wi' fond delight; She looks intill its bonnie face, An' syne looks to me-- I wadna gi'e my ain wife For ony wife I see.
Alexander Laing [1787-1857]
THE IRISH WIFE
I would not give my Irish wife For all the dames of the Saxon land; I would not give my Irish wife For the Queen of France's hand; For she to me is dearer Than castles strong, or lands, or life.
An outlaw--so I'm near her To love till death my Irish wife.
O what would be this home of mine, A ruined, hermit-haunted place, But for the light that nightly s.h.i.+nes Upon its walls from Kathleen's face!
What comfort in a mine of gold, What pleasure in a royal life, If the heart within lay dead and cold, If I could not wed my Irish wife?
I knew the law forbade the banns; I knew my king abhorred her race; Who never bent before their clans Must bow before their ladies' grace.
Take all my forfeited domain, I cannot wage with kinsmen strife: Take knightly gear and n.o.ble name, And I will keep my Irish wife.
My Irish wife has clear blue eyes, My heaven by day, my stars by night; And twin-like truth and fondness lies Within her swelling bosom white.
My Irish wife has golden hair, Apollo's harp had once such strings, Apollo's self might pause to hear Her bird-like carol when she sings.
I would not give my Irish wife For all the dames of the Saxon land; I would not give my Irish wife For the Queen of France's hand; For she to me is dearer Than castles strong, or lands, or life: In death I would be near her, And rise beside my Irish wife.
Thomas D'Arcy McGee [1825-1868]
MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING
See is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.
I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And niest my heart I'll wear her, For fear my jewel tine.
She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.
The warld's wrack we share o't, The warsle and the care o't: Wi' her I'll blithely bear it, And think my lot divine.
Robert Burns [1759-1796]
LETTICE
I said to Lettice, our sister Lettice, While drooped and glistened her eyelash brown, "Your man's a poor man, a cold and dour man, There's many a better about our town."
She smiled securely--"He loves me purely: A true heart's safe, both in smile or frown; And nothing harms me while his love warms me, Whether the world go up or down."
