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XXXII Ballades in Blue China [1885]
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Oh Flatt’ry, soft, delicious flame!
Oh, fairer than the flowers of Spring,
These blossoms of the noblest name
A lady’s good enough to fling!
Ah, tie them with a silver string,
Crown, crown the bowl with shandygaff,
And shout, till all the welkin ring, —
“A Lady wants my autograph!”
ENVOY
Princess, my lips can never frame
My whole acknowledgments, or half;
For this, I feel, at last, is fame —
A Lady wants my autograph!
BALLADE FOR A BABY
(FROM “THE GARLAND OF RACHEL.”)
’Tis distance lends, the poet says,
Enchantment to the view,
And this makes possible the praise
Which I bestow on you.
For babies rosy-pink of hue
I do not always care,
But distance paints the mountains blue,
And Rachel always fair.
Ah Time, speed on her flying days,
Bring back my youth that flew,
That she may listen to my lays
Where Merton stock-doves coo;
That I may sing afresh, anew,
My songs, now faint and rare,
Time, make me always twenty-two,
And Rachel always fair.
Nay, long ago, down dusky ways
Fled Cupid and his crew;
Life brings not back the morning haze,
The dawning and the dew;
And other lips must sigh and sue,
And younger lovers dare
To hint that Love is always true,
And Rachel always fair.
ENVOY
Princess, let Age bid Youth adieu,
Adieu to this despair,
To me, who thus despairing woo,
And Rachel always fair.
BALLADE AMOUREUSE
AFTER FROISSART
Not Jason nor Medea wise,
I crave to see, nor win much lore,
Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies;
Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’er
The wide world roamed from shore to shore;
Nor, by St. James, Penelope, —
Nor pure Lucrece, such wrong that bore:
To see my Love suffices me!
Virgil and Cato, no man vies
With them in wealth of clerkly store;
I would not see them with mine eyes;
Nor him that sailed, sans sail nor oar,
Across the barren sea and hoar,
And all for love of his ladye;
Nor pearl nor sapphire takes me more:
To see my Love suffices me!
I heed not Pegasus, that flies
As swift as shafts the bowmen pour;
Nor famed Pygmalion’s artifice,
Whereof the like was ne’er before;
Nor Oléus, that drank of yore
The salt wave of the whole great sea:
Why? dost thou ask? ’Tis as I swore —
To see my Love suffices me!
BALLADE OF QUEEN ANNE
The modish Airs,
The Tansey Brew,
The Swains and Fairs
In curtained Pew;
Nymphs Kneller drew,
Books Bentley read, —
Who knows them, who?
Queen Anne is dead!
We buy her Chairs,
Her China blue,
Her red-brick Squares
We build anew;
Oh, fairer than the flowers of Spring,
These blossoms of the noblest name
A lady’s good enough to fling!
Ah, tie them with a silver string,
Crown, crown the bowl with shandygaff,
And shout, till all the welkin ring, —
“A Lady wants my autograph!”
ENVOY
Princess, my lips can never frame
My whole acknowledgments, or half;
For this, I feel, at last, is fame —
A Lady wants my autograph!
BALLADE FOR A BABY
(FROM “THE GARLAND OF RACHEL.”)
’Tis distance lends, the poet says,
Enchantment to the view,
And this makes possible the praise
Which I bestow on you.
For babies rosy-pink of hue
I do not always care,
But distance paints the mountains blue,
And Rachel always fair.
Ah Time, speed on her flying days,
Bring back my youth that flew,
That she may listen to my lays
Where Merton stock-doves coo;
That I may sing afresh, anew,
My songs, now faint and rare,
Time, make me always twenty-two,
And Rachel always fair.
Nay, long ago, down dusky ways
Fled Cupid and his crew;
Life brings not back the morning haze,
The dawning and the dew;
And other lips must sigh and sue,
And younger lovers dare
To hint that Love is always true,
And Rachel always fair.
ENVOY
Princess, let Age bid Youth adieu,
Adieu to this despair,
To me, who thus despairing woo,
And Rachel always fair.
BALLADE AMOUREUSE
AFTER FROISSART
Not Jason nor Medea wise,
I crave to see, nor win much lore,
Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies;
Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’er
The wide world roamed from shore to shore;
Nor, by St. James, Penelope, —
Nor pure Lucrece, such wrong that bore:
To see my Love suffices me!
Virgil and Cato, no man vies
With them in wealth of clerkly store;
I would not see them with mine eyes;
Nor him that sailed, sans sail nor oar,
Across the barren sea and hoar,
And all for love of his ladye;
Nor pearl nor sapphire takes me more:
To see my Love suffices me!
I heed not Pegasus, that flies
As swift as shafts the bowmen pour;
Nor famed Pygmalion’s artifice,
Whereof the like was ne’er before;
Nor Oléus, that drank of yore
The salt wave of the whole great sea:
Why? dost thou ask? ’Tis as I swore —
To see my Love suffices me!
BALLADE OF QUEEN ANNE
The modish Airs,
The Tansey Brew,
The Swains and Fairs
In curtained Pew;
Nymphs Kneller drew,
Books Bentley read, —
Who knows them, who?
Queen Anne is dead!
We buy her Chairs,
Her China blue,
Her red-brick Squares
We build anew;
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