As the murmur of the sea,
After long captivity,
To a sailor far inland,--
Or as summer flowers fanned
By soft zephyrs blown o'er wheat.

But so stony, fair Felice, is your heart,
That I wonder oft, I own,
If you 're not mere carven stone--
While my soul your charms enthrall--
Just some chiseled Goddess tall:
Merely Beauty, Stone, and Art.

LOVE SONG

Love 's, for Youth, and not for Age,
E'en though Age should wear a crown;
For the Poet, not the Sage;
Not the Monarch, but the Clown.

Love 's for Peace, and not for War,
E'en though War bring all renown;
For the Violet, not the Star;
For the Meadow, not the Town.

Love 's for lads and Love 's for maids,
Courts a smile and flees a frown;
Love 's for Love, and saucy jades
Love Love most when Love has flown.

Love a cruel tyrant is:
Slays his victims with a glance,
Straight recovers with a kiss,
But to slay again, perchance.

Wouldst thou know where Love doth bide?
Whence his sharpest arrows fly?
In a dimple Love may hide,
Or the ambush of an eye.

Wert thou clad in triple mail,
In some desert far apart,
Not a whit would this avail:
Love would find and pierce thy heart.

THE HARBOUR-LIGHT

Oh, the Harbour-light and the Harbour-light!
And how shall we come to the Harbour-light?
'Tis black to-night and the foam is white,
And would we might win to the Harbour-light!

Oh, the Harbour-bar and the Harbour-bar!
And how shall we pass o'er the Harbour-bar?
The sea is tost and the ship is lost,
And deep is the sleep 'neath the Harbour-bar.

FADED SPRAY OF MIGNONETTE

Faded spray of mignonette,
Can you ever more forget
How you lay that summer night,
In the new moon's silvery light,
Dreaming sweet in tranquil rest
On my true-love's snowy breast?

Since her rosy finger-tips
Bore you to her fragrant lips,
Blessed you with a shadowy kiss,
Nestled you again in bliss,
(Envied of the Gods above)
All is faded save my love.

LOST ROSES

I stood beside the laughing, shining river,
And shook the roses down upon its breast,--
I watched them whirl away with gleam and quiver,
As 't were a merry jest.

I stood beside the silent, sombre river,
As creepingly the tide came from the sea,
I watched for my fair roses, but ah! never
Did they come back to me.

DE NAME OF OLE