To Beauty.

"Oh, Mistress Beauty," said my sigh,
"I'd laugh to scorn all other blisses,
If you and I might live and die
Together on such fare as kisses.

"Your kirtle would not be of silk,
The band around it but torn leather.
I think our wine would be plain milk;
I think we'd oft see stormy weather.

"But, oh, there are some things in life
Worth more to men than fame or money;
And one of them's a sweet young wife,
So pure, so honest, and so bonnie."




Dreaming of You.

My soul feels refreshed, like a rose kissed by dew,
When waking I know I've been dreaming of you.

They thought I was mad. Ah, my sweet, if they knew
That my malady simply was dreaming of you!