Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/86

Rh She counts the throbbing of the spheres, The fount of fire that springs and sinks From worlds aflamenot usshe heeds.

Ah! seek no longer with Fate to war! Lay passion by, since strife is vain; Who dares his destiny to brave Has such reward for all his pain As his, who slings against a star, Or aims an arrow to wound the wave.

Melissa, rightly are you honey-named For honey-coloured is your amber hair And heather-honey-hued your eyes of brown, And white as garden honeycomb your arms And honey-breathing bosom.