Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/690

 Only two months since you stood here? Two shortest months? Then tell me why Voices are harsher than they were, And tears are longer ere they dry.

568. Of Clementina

In Clementina's artless mien Lucilla asks me what I see, And are the roses of sixteen Enough for me?

Lucilla asks, if that be all, Have I not cull'd as sweet before: Ah yes, Lucilla! and their fall I still deplore.

I now behold another scene, Where Pleasure beams with Heaven's own light, More pure, more constant, more serene, And not less bright.

Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose, Whose chain of flowers no force can sever, And Modesty who, when she goes, Is gone for ever.

569. Ianthe's Question

'Do you remember me? or are you proud?' Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimm'd crowd, Ianthe said, and look'd into my eyes. 'A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.'