Page:Collected poems of Flecker.djvu/40

 III Cupids and loves, and men of gentler mien, Mourn, for my lady's lovèd one is dead, Her darling sparrow that to her hath been Dearer than her own eyes: even as a maid Loveth her mother, so had he been bred To know his mistress. He was honeysweet Nor ever truant from her bosom strayed, But there would twitter from his soft retreat. And now—he’s flitting down the Shadow Way, Ah, never to return! A curse on ye, Black shades of death, that let no fair thing stay; How fair a sparrow have ye snatched from me!

Poor birdie–all for thee the teardrops rise, Till red with weeping are my Love’s bright eyes. 1900

IV Proud is Phaselus here, my friends, to tell That once she was the swiftest craft afloat: No vessel, were she winged with blade or sail Could ever pass my boat. 4