Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
And near it, a stern spirit.
There came a drooping maid with violets,
But the spirit grasped her arm.
'No flowers for him,' he said.
The maid wept:
'Ah, I loved him.'
But the spirit, grim and frowning:
'No flowers for him.'
Now, this is it -
If the spirit was just,
Why did the maid weep?
Why, my heart, do we love her so?
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Why does the great sea ebb and flow? -
Why does the round world spin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me my life renew:
What is it worth unless I win,
Love--love and you?
Why, my heart, when we speak her name
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Throbs the word like a flinging flame? -
Why does the Spring begin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me indeed to be:
Open your heart, and take us in,
Love--love and me.
YOU ask me why I love her,
As I love nought on earth?
Why I'll put none above her
For sorrow or for mirth?
Though there be others fairer;
In spirit, richer, rarer;
With none will I compare her,
Who is to me all worth!
I love her for her beauty,
Her force, her fire, her youth,
For kisses cold as duty
Bespeak not love, but ruth.
I love her for the treasure
Of all the rapturous pleasure
Her love gives without measure
Of passion and of truth!
I love her firm possession
Why does she put me to many indignities,
Shifts to prevent myself thinking upon her,
My golden Katie, who loveth not kisses?
I wear my new dresses and put on silk stockings,
All to prevent myself thinking upon her,
Who is more lovely than fair river-lilies.
Why do you dote upon someone, my Soul,
who is not your true love?
Why have you taken the false for the true?
Why can't you understand, why can't you know?
It is ignorance that binds you to the false,
To the ever-recurring wheel of birth and death,
this coming and going.
Whoso that wyll all feattes optayne,
In love he must be withowt dysdayne,
For love enforyth all nobyle kynd
And dysdayne dyscorages all gentyl mynd.
Wherefor to love and be not loved
Is wors then deth? Let it be proved!
Love encoragith and makyth on bold;
Dysdayne abattyth and makith hym colde.
Love ys gevyn to God and man;
To woman also, I thynk, the same.
But dysdayne ys vice and shuld be refused;
Yet never the lesse it ys to moch used.
Whoso that wyll all feattes optayne,
The dog in the house
Always cheerful, tail wagging
Love offered without condition
A refreshing breath
(I kid you not)
Sweet sanity in a maze of
Humans gathered
Within walls, knocking heads
Against their many wills.
(Previously published in The Short North Gazette, Apr.2002)
Of all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring.
Oh, hark to what we sing!
These beauteous birds behold,
They're brought here to be sold.
And first the big one see,
So full of roguish glee!
With light and merry bound
He leaps upon the ground;
Then springs up on the bougd,
We will not praise him now.
The merry bird behold,--
He's brought here to be sold.
And now the small one see!
Who goes amid the green wood
With springtide all adorning her?
Who goes amid the merry green wood
To make it merrier?
Who passes in the sunlight
By ways that know the light footfall?
Who passes in the sweet sunlight
With mien so virginal?
The ways of all the woodland
Gleam with a soft and golden fire -- -
For whom does all the sunny woodland
Carry so brave attire?
O, it is for my true love
The woods their rich apparel wear -- -
O, it is for my own true love,
It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows; let it suffice
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
