Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/188

 But see how patient I am grown In all this coil about thee: Come, nice thing, let my heart alone, I cannot live without thee!

117. The Parting

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part— Nay, I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes, —Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.

118. Sirena

Near to the silver Trent dwelleth; She to whom Nature lent All that excelleth; By which the Muses late And the neat Graces Have for their greater state Taken their places; Twisting an anadem Wherewith to crown her,