No.9

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LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle -
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdain'd its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea -

What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

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BIRD SONGS AT EVENTIDE
Royden Barrie

Over the quiet hills
Slowly the shadows fall;
Far down the echoing vale
Birds softly call;
Slowly the golden sun
Sinks in the dreaming West;
Bird songs at eventide
Call me to rest.

Love, though the hours of day
Sadness of heart may bring,
When twilight comes again
Sorrows take wing;
For when the dusk of dreams
Comes with the falling dew,
Bird songs at eventide
Call me to you.

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TWO SPARROWS
Humbert Wolfe 1885-1940

Two sparrows, feeding,
Heard a thrush
Sing to the dawn,
The first said, “Tush!

In all my life
I never heard
A more affected
Singing bird.”

The second said,
“It’s you and me
Who slave to keep
The likes of he.”

“And if we cared,”
Both sparrows said,
“We’d do that singing
On our head.”

The thrush pecked sideways
And was dumb.
“And now,” they screamed,
“He’s pinched our crumb!”

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THE OTHER SIDE OF A MIRROR
Mary Elizabeth Coleridge 1861-1907

I sat before my glass one day,
And conjured up a vision bare,
Unlike the aspects glad and gay,
That erst were found reflected there -
The vision of a woman, wild
With more than womanly despair.

Her hair stood back on either side
A face bereft of loveliness.
It had no envy now to hide
What once no man on earth could guess.
It formed the thorny aureole
Of hard, unsanctified distress.

Her lips were open - not a sound
Came though the parted lines of red,
Whate'er it was, the hideous wound
In silence and secret bled.
No sigh relieved her speechless woe,
She had no voice to speak her dread.

And in her lurid eyes there shone
The dying flame of life's desire,
Made mad because its hope was gone,
And kindled at the leaping fire
Of jealousy and fierce revenge,
And strength that could not change nor tire.

Shade of a shadow in the glass,
O set the crystal surface free!
Pass - as the fairer visions pass -
Nor ever more return, to be
The ghost of a distracted hour,
That heard me whisper: - "I am she!'"

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More poems on Thursday

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