Wearyin' fer You Between the winding willows Blue shade of golden branches Laurence Binyon [1869 WEARYIN' FER YOU JEST a-wearyin' fer you- Keep a-mopin' day by day: Folks they smile an' pass along Room's so lonesome, with your chair Go outdoors an' roam a bit: But the woods is lonesome, too, Jest a-wearyin' fer you. Comes the wind with sounds that' jes' Like the rustlin' o' your dress; An' the dew on flower an' tree Tinkles like your steps to me! 993 Mornin' comes, the birds awake That come thrillin' from their throats! Evenin' comes: I miss you more There to open fer me! Latch goes tinklin'-thrills me through, Sets me wearyin' fer you! Jest a-wearyin' fer you— All the time a-feelin' blue! Wishin' fer you-wonderin' when You'll be comin' home again; Restless-don't know what to do— Jest a-wearyin' fer you! Frank L. Stanton (1857 THE LOVERS OF MARCHAID DOMINIC came riding down, sworded, straight and splendid, But he only saw her head bent within the gloom Dreaming Fanch, the cobbler's son, took his tools and laces, Song But he only saw her eyes turning from his gift 995 Out towards the silver skies where the white clouds drift, Where the wild gerfalcon flies, where the last sails lift. Bran has built his homestead high where the hills may shield her, Where the young bird waits the spring, where the dawns are fair, Said: "I'll name my trees for her, since I may not yield her Stars of morning for her feet, of evening for her hair." But he did not see them ride, seven dim sail and more, Jean-Marie has touched his pipe down beside the river When the young fox bends the fern, when the folds are still, Said: "I send her all the gifts that my love may give her, Golden notes like golden birds to seek her at my will." But he only found the waves, heard the sea-gull's cry, SONG SHE'S Somewhere in the sunlight strong, Her tears are in the falling rain, She calls me in the wind's soft song, And with the flowers she comes again. Yon bird is but her messenger, The moon is but her silver car; Yea! sun and moon are sent by her, And every wistful waiting star. Richard Le Gallienne [1866 THE LOVER THINKS OF HIS LADY IN THE NORTH Now many are the stately ships that northward steam away, And gray sails northward blow black hulls, and many more are they; And myriads of viking gulls flap to the northern seas: But Oh my thoughts that go to you are more than all of these! The winds blow to the northward like a million eager wings, The driven sea a million white-capped waves to northward flings: I send you thoughts more many than the waves that fleck the sea, More eager than tempestuous winds, O Love long leagues from me! O Love, long leagues from me, I would I trod the drenched deck Of some ship speeding to the North and staunch against all wreck, I would I were a sea- O if I were the sea, upon your northern land I'd beat feet; And if I were the winds, I'd waft you perfumes from the South, And give my pleadings to your ears, my kisses to your mouth. Though many ships are sailing, never one will carry me, blue Ah, so my love and longing must be known, Dear Heart, to you! Shaemas O Sheel [1886 Ad Domnulam Suam 997 • CHANSON DE ROSEMONDE THE dawn is lonely for the sun, And chill and drear; The one lone star is pale and wan As one in fear. But when day strides across the hills, Oh, come, my King! The hounds of joy To chase the doe of heart's desire Across the heights of morn. Oh, come, my Sun, and let me know The rapture of the day! Oh, come, my love! Oh, come, my love!' Thou art so long away! Richard Hovey [1864-1900] AD DOMNULAM SUAM LITTLE lady of my heart! Just a little longer, Love me: we will pass and part, I have loved thee, Child! too well, Nay! my lips should never tell Any tale to grieve thee. Little lady of my heart! |