Janette's Hair For the world to me had no daintier sight It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette, It was finer than silk of the floss-my pet; 'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist, 1113 "Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed— 'Twas the loveliest hair in the world-my pet. My arm was the arm of a clown, Janette, Your eyes had a swimming glory, Janette. They were gray with that chastened tinge of the sky And they matched with your golden hair-my pet. Your lips--but I have no words, Janette— And they suited your gold brown hair-my pet. Oh, you tangled my life in your hair, Janette, With my fingers enmeshed in your hair-my pet. Thus ever I dream what you were, Janette, With your lips, and your eyes, and your hair-my pet, And my tears fall bitterly over the stone Charles Graham Halpine [1829-1868] 66 THE DYING LOVER THE grass that is under me now You may walk this way again, Richard Henry Stoddard [1825-1903] WHEN THE GRASS SHALL COVER ME" WHEN the grass shall cover me, When not any wind that blows, Shall awake me to your sighing: When the grass shall cover me, You will find in blade and blossom, When the grass shall cover me! Ah, beloved, in my sorrow Very patient, I can wait, Knowing that, or soon or late, Give Love To-day There will dawn a clearer morrow: When your heart will moan "Alas! When the grass grows over me! Ina Coolbrith [1844 GIVE LOVE TO-DAY WHEN the lean, gray grasses When you come, my lover, Though with sad words splendid, Praising, you call me dear, It will be all ended; I shall not hear. You may live love's riot Laughingly over my head, But I shall lie quiet With the gray dead. Love, you will not wake me With all your singing carouse Nor your dancing shake me In my dark house. Though you should go weeping, Sorrowful for my sake, Fain to break my sleeping, I could not wake. 1115 Now, ere time destroy us— Now, while deep-eyed, golden, Fetter his wings. Love, nor joy nor sorrow Leave the Fates to-morrow; Give Love to-day. Ethel Talbot [18 UNTIL DEATH MAKE me no vows of constancy, dear friend, To love me, though I die, thy whole life long, And love no other till thy days shall end— Nay, it were rash and wrong. If thou canst love another, be it so; I would not reach out of my quiet grave To bind thy heart, if it should choose to goLove should not be a slave. My placid ghost, I trust, will walk serene Which sow this life with thorns. Thou wouldst not feel my shadowy caress; If, after death, my soul should linger here; Men's hearts crave tangible, close tenderness, Love's presence, warm and near. Florence Vane It would not make me sleep more peacefully Carve not upon a stone when I am dead The praises which remorseful mourners give To women's graves-a tardy recompenseBut speak them while I live. Heap not the heavy marble o'er my head 1117 To shut away the sunshine and the dew; Thou wilt meet many fairer and more gay Than I; but, trust me, thou canst never find One who will love and serve thee night and day With a more single mind. Forget me when I die! The violets Above my breast will blossom just as blue, Nor miss thy tears; e'en nature's self forgets; But while I live, be true. Elizabeth Akers [1832-1911] FLORENCE VANE I LOVED thee long and dearly, Florence Vane; My life's bright dream and early I renew in my fond vision, My heart's dear pain My hopes, and thy derision, The ruin, lone and hoary, Where thou didst hark my story, At even told |