The Victories of Love, and Other Poems Part 12

At tea we talk'd of matters deep, Of joy that never dies; We laugh'd, till love was mix'd with sleep Within your great sweet eyes.

The next day, sweet with luck no less And sense of sweetness past, The full tide of our happiness Rose higher than the last.

At Dawlish, 'mid the pools of brine, You stept from rock to rock, One hand quick tightening upon mine, One holding up your frock.

On starfish and on weeds alone You seem'd intent to be: Flash'd those great gleams of hope unknown From you, or from the sea?

Ne'er came before, ah, when again Shall come two days like these: Such quick delight within the brain, Within the heart such peace?

I thought, indeed, by magic chance, A third from Heaven to win, But as, at dusk, we reach'd Penzance, A drizzling rain set in.

EROS.

Bright thro' the valley gallops the brooklet; Over the welkin travels the cloud; Touch'd by the zephyr, dances the harebell; Cuckoo sits somewhere, singing so loud; Two little children, seeing and hearing, Hand in hand wander, shout, laugh, and sing: Lo, in their bosoms, wild with the marvel, Love, like the crocus, is come ere the Spring.

Young men and women, n.o.ble and tender, Yearn for each other, faith truly plight, Promise to cherish, comfort and honour; Vow that makes duty one with delight.

Oh, but the glory, found in no story, Radiance of Eden unquench'd by the Fall; Few may remember, none may reveal it, This the first first-love, the first love of all!

FOOTNOTES:

{1} Written in 1856.