The Home Book of Verse, vol 2 | Page 7

a rustic call it so." Thus he spoke, and she the while Heard him
with a soothing smile; Then said, "My infant, if so much Thou feel the
little wild bee's touch, How must the heart, ah, Cupid! be, The hapless
heart that's stung by thee!"
Thomas Moore [1779-1852]
CUPID DROWNED
T'other day, as I was twining Roses, for a crown to dine in, What, of all
things, 'mid the heap, Should I light on, fast asleep, But the little
desperate elf, The tiny traitor, Love, himself! By the wings I picked
him up Like a bee, and in a cup Of my wine I plunged and sank him,
Then what d'ye think I did? - I drank him. Faith, I thought him dead.
Not he! There he lives with ten-fold glee; And now this moment with
his wings I feel him tickling my heart-strings.
Leigh Hunt [1784-1859]
SONG From "The Heir of Vironi"
Oh! say not woman's love is bought With vain and empty treasure. Oh!
say not woman's heart is caught By every idle pleasure. When first her
gentle bosom knows Love's flame, it wanders never; Deep in her heart
the passion glows, She loves, and loves for ever.
Oh! say not woman's false as fair, That, like the bee, she ranges, Still
seeking flowers more sweet and rare, As fickle fancy changes. Ah no!
the love that first can warm Will leave her bosom never; No second
passion e'er can charm, She loves, and loves for ever.
Isaac Pocock [1782-1835]
"IN THE DAYS OF OLD" From "Crotchet Castle"
In the days of old Lovers felt true passion, Deeming years of sorrow By

a smile repaid: Now the charms of gold, Spells of pride and fashion,
Bid them say Good-morrow To the best-loved Maid.
Through the forests wild, O'er the mountains lonely, They were never
weary Honor to pursue: If the damsel smiled Once in seven years only,
All their wanderings dreary Ample guerdon knew.
Now one day's caprice Weighs down years of smiling, Youthful hearts
are rovers, Love is bought and sold. Fortune's gifts may cease, Love is
less beguiling: Wiser were the lovers In the days of old.
Thomas Love Peacock [1785-1866]
SONG
How delicious is the winning Of a kiss at Love's beginning, When two
mutual hearts are sighing For the knot there's no untying!
Yet remember, 'midst your wooing, Love has bliss, but Love has ruing;
Other smiles may make you fickle, Tears for other charms may trickle.
Love he comes, and Love he tarries, Just as fate or fancy carries;
Longest stays, when sorest chidden; Laughs and flies, when pressed
and bidden.
Bind the sea to slumber stilly, Bind its odor to the lily, Bind the aspen
ne'er to quiver, Then bind Love to last forever!
Love's a fire that needs renewal Of fresh beauty for its fuel: Love's
wing moults when caged and captured, Only free, he soars enraptured.
Can you keep the bee from ranging, Or the ringdove's neck from
changing? No! nor fettered Love from dying In the knot there's no
untying.
Thomas Campbell [1777-1844]
STANZAS
Could Love for ever Run like a river, And Time's endeavor Be tried in
vain - No other pleasure With this could measure, And like a treasure
We'd hug the chain. But since our sighing Ends not in dying, And,
formed for flying, Love plumes his wing; Then for this reason Let's
love a season; But let that season Be only Spring.
When lovers parted Feel broken-hearted, And, all hopes thwarted,
Expect to die; A few years older, Ah! how much colder They might
behold her For whom they sigh! When linked together, In every
weather, They pluck Love's feather From out his wing - He'll stay for
ever, But sadly shiver Without his plumage, When past the Spring.
Like Chiefs of Faction, His life is action - A formal paction That curbs

his reign, Obscures his glory, Despot no more, he Such territory Quits
with disdain. Still, still advancing, With banners glancing, His power
enhancing, He must move on - Repose but cloys him, Retreat destroys
him, Love brooks not a Degraded throne.
Wait not, fond lover! Till years are over, And then recover, As from a
dream. While each bewailing The other's failing, With wrath and
railing, All hideous seem - While first decreasing, Yet not quite ceasing,
Wait not till teasing All passion blight: If once diminished Love's reign
is finished - Then part in friendship, - And bid good-night.
So shall Affection To recollection The dear connection Bring back with
joy: You had not waited Till, tired or hated, Your passions sated Began
to cloy. Your last embraces Leave no cold traces - The same fond faces
As through the past; And eyes, the mirrors Of your sweet errors,
Reflect but rapture