Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/1053

 ROBERT BRIDGES

And when he ceased, the hearer

Awaited the refrain, Till swiftly perching nearer He sang his song again, His pretty song Would that my verse spake clearer His tender song'

Ye happy, airy creatures'

That in the merry spring Think not of what misfeatures Or cares the year may bring;

But unto love Resign your simple natures, To tender love.

��848 Awake, my Heart> to be loved

AVAK.E, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the sky. unrisen lustres slake The overtaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake'

She too that loveth awakcth and hopes for thec, Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee, Already they watch the path thy feet shall take: Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake'

And if thou tarry from her, if this could be, She cometh herself, O heart, to be loved, to thee; For thee would unabhamed herself forsake: Awake to be loved, my heart, awake, awake!

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