Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/715

 Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame.

They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me— Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met— In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? With silence and tears.

598. For Music

There be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmèd ocean's pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull'd winds seem dreaming: