Song With the tale of their arms complete: They march for war and they march for peace, For the lust of gold and fame's increase, For victories sadder than defeat They raise the dust on the highway. All the armies of earth defied, Love dwells in little paths aside. All day long on the highway Rushes an eager band, With straining eyes for a worthless prize That slips from the grasp like sand. And men leave blood where their feet have stood And bow them down unto brass and wood Idols fashioned by their own hand— Blind in the dust of the highway. Power and gold and fame denied, Love laughs glad in the paths aside. Louise Driscoll [18 SONG TAKE it, love! "Twill soon be over, With the thickening of the clover, With the calling of the plover, Take it, take it, lover. Take it, boy! The blossom's falling, And the farewell cuckoo's calling, While the sun and showers are one, Take your love out in the sun. Take it, girl! And fear no after, Take your fill of all this laughter, Laugh or not, the tears will fall, Richard Le Gallienne [1866 495 "NEVER GIVE ALL THE HEART" NEVER give all the heart, for love If deaf and dumb and blind with love? William Butler Yeats [1865 SONG I CAME to the door of the House of Love And knocked as the starry night went by; And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said "It is I." And Love looked down from a lattice above Where the roses were dry as the lips of the dead: "There is not room in the House of Love For you both," he said. I plucked a leaf from the porch and crept I came once more to the House of Love And knocked, ah, softly and wistfully, And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said "None now but thee." Song And the great doors opened wide apart And a voice rang out from a glory of light, "Make room, make room for a faithful heart In the House of Love, to-night." Alfred Noyes [1880 497 IN PRAISE OF HER FIRST SONG From "Astrophel and Stella " DOUBT you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure? Who hath the lips where wit in fairness reigneth? Who hath the feet, whose step all sweetness planteth? Who hath the breast, whose milk doth passions nourish? Whose grace is such, that when it chides doth cherish? To you! to you! all song of praise is due; Only through you the tree of life doth flourish. Who hath the hand, which without stroke subdueth? Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth? To you! to you! all song of praise is due; Only at you all envy hopeless rueth. Silvia Who hath the hair, which loosest fastest tieth? Who hath the voice, which soul from senses sunders? 499 Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Philip Sidney [1554-1586] SILVIA From "The Two Gentlemen of Verona" WHO is Silvia? What is she? That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she; The heaven such grace did lend her, Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: To help him of his blindness; Then to Silvia let us sing, William Shakespeare [1564-1616] 602245 A |