Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude,
And troth's an oath derided.

_She._ Yea, my love--and nay, my love--
And ask me not to tell, love,
While I delay'd an idle day
What 'twixt us there befell, love.
Yet either I did sit beside
And do at length as you did,
Or my delight is lightly by
An idle lie deluded!




THE STATUES AND THE TEAR


All night a fountain pleads,
Telling her beads,
Her tinkling beads monotonous 'neath the moon;
And where she springs atween,
Two statues lean--
Two Kings, their marble beards with moonlight
strewn.

Till hate had frozen speech,
Each hated each,
Hated and died, and went unto his place:
And still inveterate