Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/121

 'Faith your kiss has made it so sweet at the brim I could go on supping for ever! We'll pocket the pistol: And Tim, you limb, May this craturr abandon you never!

Like violets pale i' the Spring o' the year Came my Love's sad eyes to my youth; Wan and dim with many a tear, But the sweeter for that in sooth: Wet and dim, Tender and true, Violet eyes Of the sweetest blue.

Like pansies dark i' the June o' the year Grow my Love's glad eyes to my prime; Rich with the purple splendour clear Of their thoughtful bliss sublime: Deep and dark, Solemn and true, Pansy eyes Of the noblest blue.