SECTION I .

The most excellent Gifts nothing without Love.

Could I with men and angels vie
In language, without love,
Nought, but a sounding brass would I,
Or tinkling cymbal, prove.

Could I both preach and prophecy,
All myst'ries understand;
Have knowledge all ingross'd in me,
All gifts at my command:

Yea, had I faith that could remove
Great mountains to the main,

My love and I a bargain made,
It is well worth a-telling;
When one was weary we agreed
To part both should be willing.

And thus our loves will longer last
Than fools that still are pining;
We'll spend our time in joy and mirth,
Whilst doaters do in whining.

A MARILLIS told her swain,
Amarillis told her swain,
That in love he should be plain
And not think to deceive her. Chorus:
Still he protested on his truth
That he would never leave her.

If thou dost keep thy vow, quoth she,
And that thou ne'er dost leave me,
There's ne'er a swain in all the plain
That ever shall come near thee Chorus:
For garlands and embroidered scrips,
For I do love thee dearly.

But Colin if thou change thy Love,

Half way the hill, near to those aged trees,
Whose insides are as hives for lab'ring bees,
(As who should say, before their roots were dead,
For good work's sake and alms they harboured
Those whom nought else did cover but the skies:)
A path, untrodden but of beasts, there lies,
Directing to a cave in yonder glade,
Where all this forest's citizens for shade
At noon-time come, and are the first, I think,
That (running through that cave) my waters drink:
Within this rock there sits a woful wight,
As void of comfort as that cave of light;

To feasts and theatres you love to go
With men of rank and, when you chance to meet.
To lounge with them about a portico
Or street.

They let you bathe and dine with them, but what
Your dullard pride will never comprehend
Is that you are their mountebank, and not

C YLLENE'S glory, heaven's pride, thou messenger with cunning tongue,
Whose golden wand with coiling snake doth splendid shine the gods among,
May thou thy stolen loves attain, fair Venus or young Ganymede,
And may thy mother's Ides adorned with bay proclaim some noble deed,
And Atlas bear a lighter load, if Carpus and Norbana now
To celebrate the nuptial day when first they met thou wilt allow.
A pious priest of wisdom he to wisdom pays his gift of love,
Sending his incense up to thee and faithful also unto Jove.

He was great with the gloves, but the lady he loves
Said boxing must now be deserted;
A Knight she has made him, and so has displayed him
As Pollux to Castor converted.

C AELIA , you love a Teuton swain,
An Asiatic stirs your pity,
For you swart Indians cross the main,
Copts flock to you from Pharos' city.

A Jew, a Scythian cavalier,
Can please you — but I can't discover
Why you, a Roman, are austere
To none except a Roman lover.

If for thy people's love thou hast a care,
And wilt a joyful issue grant to prayer,
Then, sire, give back our god: Rome grudges thee
To foreign lands though thou victorious be.
Our foemen have the Lord of Earth in sight,
And in thy face find terror and delight.

1863

I HEARD the tramp, and I heard the song,
Soldiers marching, marching along.
" Glory, Glory!" I hear it yet.
My heart was hot and my cheeks were wet.
" What shall I do when I am grown,"
I said, " with children of my own?"
" If I have a son; and he has a son;
They shall do what these have done;
And I'll love them so, I'll love them so,
That I'll buckle their swords and bid them go."