LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE. HER attachment may differ from yours in degree, But Friendship how tender so ever it be Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature revealing, Grows asham'd of itself, and demurs: If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling, You must lower down your state to hers. NAMES. I ASKED my fair, one happy day, What I should call her in my lay; By what sweet name from Rome or Greece; Lalage, Neæra, Chloris, Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris, Arethusa or Lucrece. "Ah!" replied my gentle fair, "Beloved, what are names but air? Choose thou whatever suits the line; Call me Sappho, call me Chloris, Call me Lalage or Doris, Only, only call me thine." DESIRE. [flame ; WHERE true Love burns, Desire is Love's pure FIRST ADVENT OF LOVE. O FAIR is Love's first hope to gentle mind! NOT AT HOME. THAT Jealousy may rule a mind She has a strange cast in her e'e, Ask for her and she'll be denied : What then? they only mean TO A LADY, OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS. NAY, dearest Anna! why so grave? WHY LOVE IS BLIND. I HAVE heard of reasons manifold What outward form and feature are He seeth with the heart. LINES SUGGESTED BY THE LAST WORDS OF BERENGARIUS. OB. ANNO DOM. 1088. No more 'twixt conscience staggering and the Pope By him to be condemned, as I fear.— REFLECTION ON THE ABOVE. Lynx amid moles! had I stood by thy bed, All are not strong alike through storms to steer death And dungeon torture made thy hand and breath That truth, from which, through fear, thou twice didst start, Fear haply told thee, was a learned strife, Or not so vital as to claim thy life: And myriads had reached heaven, who never knew Where lay the difference 'twixt the false and true! Ye, who secure 'mid trophies not your own, And proudly talk of recreant Berengare— Like the weak worm that gems the starless night, And was it strange if he withdrew the ray The ascending day-star with a bolder eye SANCTI DOMINICI PALLIUM; A DIALOGUE BETWEEN POET AND FRIEND, FOUND WRITTEN ON THE BLANK LEAF AT THE BEGINNING OF BUTLER'S BOOK OF THE CHURCH. POET. I NOTE the moods and feelings men betray, |