THE ARGUMENT

Since that the passing panges of looue,
Which many Loouers ofte doo prooue:
I fynde the cause, from time to time,
That made men shew their mindes in rime
I doo intend, in verses few
A dolorous discourse to shew,
Of one that was bewitcht in looue:
What passing pangues he ofte did prooue
In which God wot the more his paine
Euen till his death he did remaine.

I F I had skill to frame a cunning Vearse

( AFTER AN EVENING SPENT IN READING THE BIG BOYS )

HONEYMOON

Ponder, darling, these busted statues,
Be aware of the forum, sweet;
Feel the centuries tearing at youse —
Don't keep asking me when we eat!

Look, my love, where the hills hang drowsy;
Caesar watched them, a-wondering, here.
Get yon goddesses, chipped and lousy —
Don't be trying to bite my ear!

Child, consider the clouds above you,

My friends, I love your fame; I joy to raise
The high toned anthem of my country's praise;
To sing her victories, virtues, wisdom, weal,
Boast with loud voice the patriot pride I feel;
Warm wild I sing; and, to her failings blind,
Mislead myself, perhaps mislead mankind.
Land that I love! is this the whole we owe?
Thy pride to pamper, thy fair face to show;
Dwells there no blemish where such glories shine?
And lurks no spot in that bright sun of thine?
Hark! a dread voice, with heaven-astounding strain,

That wild free song which will not wear a fetter,
Such as was mastered well by loving Shelley
(Pure poet, down-ridden in the world's hot mêlee ),
Or such as Shakespeare uttered, careless setter
In Orient gold of perfect amethysts,
Whom men must marvel at, while the great world exists.

We are led forth amid the mystic moan
Of music sad with love unutterable
To ascend the wide slow stair of carven stone,
So wide a troop of mounted knights were able
To climb it easily. When the door is thrown
Open, I see clad in a cloak of sable
A skeleton form with lurid light above,
Who says, " I am the Lover of thy Love ."

Now with the sound of that great knight's slow saying
I seem to pass back many centuries.
It is another world I am surveying
Than this of comforts and philosophies:
There is a passion-storm the nations swaying
Of Faith that shatters old idolatries,
And a sworn soldier of that Faith am I.
But, " Where is the Lady of my Love? " I cry.

Das Glück, das gestern mich geküsst

The joy that kissed me yesterday
Has disappeared already;
Long years ago I found it so:
True love is never steady.

Oft curiosity has drawn
Some lovely ladies toward me;
But when they looked deep in my heart
They left, and then abhorred me.

Some have grown pale before they went,
And some with laughter cleft me;
But only Kitty really cared —

Ich liebe solche weisse Glieder

I love this white and slender body,
These limbs that answer Love's caresses,
Passionate eyes, and forehead covered
With heavy waves of thick, black tresses.

You are the very one I've searched for
In many lands, in every weather.
You are my sort; you understand me;
As equals we can talk together.

In me you've found the man you care for.
And, for a while, you'll richly pay me

In welche soll ich mich verlieben

Which of them shall I fall in love with?
Both of them make my senses swirl.
The mother's still a lovely woman;
The daughter's an enchanting girl.

In those white arms and virgin beauties
My trembling heart is almost caught!
But thrilling too are genial glances
That understand each casual thought.

My heart resembles our gray brother,
Who stands, a jackass self-confessed,

In meinen Tagesträumen

In all my dreams by daylight
And nights that follow after,
My spirit throbs and rings with
Your long and lovely laughter.

Remember Montmorency?
The ass you dared not straddle?
And how, into the thistles,
You fell from that high saddle?

The donkey stood there browsing
Upon the thorns thereafter —
Always will I remember
Your long and lovely laughter.