large/10173/early_poems_1509_librivox_64kb_mp3/earlypoems_09_lowell_64kb_6
large/10173/early_poems_1509_librivox_64kb_mp3/earlypoems_09_lowell_64kb
English
10173
I do not care to know who prest you: Enough for me to feel and know That some heart's love and longing blest you, Knitting to day with long ago. I DO NOT CARE TO KNOW WHO PRESSED YOU ENOUGH FOR ME TO FEEL AND KNOW THAT SOME HEART'S LOVE AND LONGING BLESSED YOU KNITTING TO DAY WITH LONG AGO
reby 'twas brought. Or were you prest here by two lovers Who seemed to read these verses rare, But found between the antique covers What Spenser could not prison there: Songs which his glorious soul had heard, But his dull pen could never write, Which flew, like some gold-wingèd bird, Through the blue heaven out of sight? My heart is with them as they sit, I see the rosebud in her breast, I see her small hand taking it From out its odorous, snowy nest; I hear him swear that he will keep it, In memory of that blessed day, To smile on it or over-weep it When she and spring are far away. Ah me! I needs must droop my head, And brush away a happy tear, For they are gone, and, dry and dead, The rosebud lies before me here. Yet is it in no stranger's hand, For I will guard it tenderly, And it shall be a magic wand To bring mine own true love to me. My heart runs o'er with sweet surmises, The while my fancy weaves her rhyme, Kind hopes and musical surprises Throng round me from the olden time. D OUTLASTED THE SUDDEN BLOW WHEREBY TWAS BROUGHT OR WERE YOU PRESSED HERE BY TWO LOVERS WHO SEEMED TO READ THESE VERSES RARE BUT FOUND BETWEEN THE ANTI COVERS WHAT SPENCER COULD NOT PRISON THERE SONGS WHICH HIS GLORIOUS SOUL HAD HEARD BUT HIS DULL PEN COULD NEVER WRITE WHICH FLEW LIKE SOME GOLD WINGED BIRD THROUGH THE BLUE HEAVEN OUT OF SIGHT MY HEART IS WITH THEM AS THEY SIT I SEE THE ROSEBUD IN HER BREAST I SEE HER SMALL HAND TAKING IT FROM OUT ITS ODOROUS SNOWY NEST I HEAR HIM SWEAR THAT HE WILL KEEP IT IN MEMORY OF THAT BLESSED DAY TO SMILE ON IT OR OVERWEEP IT WHEN SHE AND SPRING ARE FAR AWAY AH ME I NEEDS MUST DROOP MY HEAD AND BRUSH AWAY A HAPPY TEAR FOR THEY ARE GONE AND DRY AND DEAD THE ROSEBUD LIES BEFORE ME HERE YET IT IS IN NO STRANGER'S HAND FOR I WILL GUARD IT TENDERLY AND IT SHALL BE A MAGIC WAND TO BRING MINE OWN TRUE LOVE TO ME MY HEART RUNS O'ER WITH SWEET SURMISES THE WHILE MY FANCY WEAVES HER RHYME KIND HOPES AND MUSICAL SURPRISES THRONG ROUND ME FROM THE OLDEN TIME
large/10173/early_poems_1509_librivox_64kb_mp3/earlypoems_09_lowell_64kb
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