Quatrains
Behold these proper lovers, when they meet:Each longs for love’s caresses, but that heatMust be suppressed; it is the moral code.God made their passion.... Made he this deceit?
Behold these proper lovers, when they meet:Each longs for love’s caresses, but that heatMust be suppressed; it is the moral code.God made their passion.... Made he this deceit?
Behold these proper lovers, when they meet:Each longs for love’s caresses, but that heatMust be suppressed; it is the moral code.God made their passion.... Made he this deceit?
Behold these proper lovers, when they meet:
Each longs for love’s caresses, but that heat
Must be suppressed; it is the moral code.
God made their passion.... Made he this deceit?
The theatre was my life, the very breathOf my existence, so what followethShall be in keeping. Tell the player-worldI take my final rôle—the lead, in “Death”.
The theatre was my life, the very breathOf my existence, so what followethShall be in keeping. Tell the player-worldI take my final rôle—the lead, in “Death”.
The theatre was my life, the very breathOf my existence, so what followethShall be in keeping. Tell the player-worldI take my final rôle—the lead, in “Death”.
The theatre was my life, the very breath
Of my existence, so what followeth
Shall be in keeping. Tell the player-world
I take my final rôle—the lead, in “Death”.
In younger days, her virtue was a veilShe planned to drop, when true love should assail.No lovers came. Perforce, her life was chaste.In age, she boasts her virtue’s iron mail!
In younger days, her virtue was a veilShe planned to drop, when true love should assail.No lovers came. Perforce, her life was chaste.In age, she boasts her virtue’s iron mail!
In younger days, her virtue was a veilShe planned to drop, when true love should assail.No lovers came. Perforce, her life was chaste.In age, she boasts her virtue’s iron mail!
In younger days, her virtue was a veil
She planned to drop, when true love should assail.
No lovers came. Perforce, her life was chaste.
In age, she boasts her virtue’s iron mail!
So many, ere they leave this little sphereSay thus and so observe my death; make cheerOr weep, in just this way.Well, as for me,Mourn me or not: I shall not pause to hear!
So many, ere they leave this little sphereSay thus and so observe my death; make cheerOr weep, in just this way.Well, as for me,Mourn me or not: I shall not pause to hear!
So many, ere they leave this little sphereSay thus and so observe my death; make cheerOr weep, in just this way.Well, as for me,Mourn me or not: I shall not pause to hear!
So many, ere they leave this little sphere
Say thus and so observe my death; make cheer
Or weep, in just this way.
Well, as for me,
Mourn me or not: I shall not pause to hear!
C. G. POORE.