BRIDGES, Robert


I will not let thee go

I will not let thee go.

Ends all our month-long love in this?

Can it be summed up so,

Quit in a single kiss?

I will not let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

If thy words' breath could scare thy deeds,

As the soft south can blow

And toss the feathered seeds,

Then might I let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

Had not the great sun seen, I might;

Or were he reckoned slow

To bring the false to light,

Then might I let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

The stars that crowd the summer skies

Have watched us so below

With all their million eyes,

I dare not let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

Have we chid the changeful moon,

Now rising late, and now

Because she set too soon,

And shall I let thee go?

I will not let thee go.

Have not the young flowers been content,

Plucked ere their buds could blow,

To seal our sacrament?

I cannot let thee go.

I will not let thee go.

I hold thee by too many bands:

Thou sayest farewell, and lo!

I have thee by the hands,

And will not let thee go.


The Evening Darkens Over

THE evening darkens over

After a day so bright,

The windcapt waves discover

That wild will be the night.

There's sound of distant thunder.

The latest sea-birds hover

Along the cliff's sheer height;

As in the memory wander

Last flutterings of delight,

White wings lost on the white.

There's not a ship in sight;

And as the sun goes under,

Thick clouds conspire to cover

The moon that should rise yonder.

Thou art alone, fond lover.


I Love All Beauteous Things

I love all beauteous things,

I seek and adore them;

God hath no better praise,

And man in his hasty days

Is honoured for them.

I too will something make

And joy in the making!

Altho' tomorrow it seem'

Like the empty words of a dream

Remembered, on waking.


My Delight and Thy Delight

MY delight and thy delight

Walking, like two angels white,

In the gardens of the night:

My desire and thy desire

Twinning to a tongue of fire,

Leaping live, and laughing higher;

Thro' the everlasting strife

In the mystery of life.

Love, from whom the world begun,

Hath the secret of the sun.

Love can tell and love alone,

Whence the million stars are strewn,

Why each atom knows its own,

How, in spite of woe and death,

Gay is life, and sweet is breath:

This he taught us, this we knew,

Happy in his science true,

Hand in hand as we stood

'Neath the shadows of the wood,

Heart to heart as we lay

In the dawning of the day.