Come to me in dreams, and then 
     One saith, I shall be well again,
     For then the night will more than pay
     The hopeless longing of the day.

Nay, come not thou in dreams, my sweet
with the voice, and with the eyes
That greet me in soft surprise.

Last night, last night, in dreams we met,
And how, to-day, shall I forget,
Or how, remembering, restrain
Mine incommunicable pain?

Nay, where thy land and people are,
Nor mingle with the shapes that sweep
The melancholy ways of Sleep.

But if, perchance, the shadows break,
If dreams depart, and men awake,
If face to face at length we see,
Be thine the voice to welcome me.


~Andrew Lang 1844-1912

LINES TO MR. HODGSON.
written on board the lisbon packet

HUZZA! Hodgson, we are going,
 Our embargo's off at last;
Favorable breezes blowing 
 Bend the cancas o'er the mast.
From aloft the signal's straming,
 Hark! the farewell gun is fired;
Women screeching, tars blaspheming,
 Tell us that out time's expired.
      Here's a rascal
      Come to task all,
 Prying form the custom-house;
    Trunks unpacking,
    Cases cracking,
 Not a corner for a mouse
'Scrapes unsearch'd amis the racket,
Ere we sail on board the Packet.

Now our boatman quit their mooring,
 And all hands must ply the oar;
Baggage from the quay is lowering,
 We're impatient, push from shore.
"Have a care! that case holds liquor-
 Stop the boat- I'm sick- oh, Lord!"

"Sick, ma'am, damme, you'll be sicker,
 Ere you've been an hour on board."
     Thus are screaming
     Men and women,
 Gemmen, ladies, servents, Jacks;
     Here entangling,
     All are wrangling,
 Stuck together close as wax.-
Such the general noise and racket,
 Ere we reach the Lisbon Packet.

Now we've reach'd her, lo! the captain,
 Gallant Kidd, commands the crew;
Passengers their berths are clapt in,
 Some to grumble, some to spew.
"Heyday! call you that a cabin?
 Why't is hardly three feet square:
Not enough to stow Queen Mab in-
 Who the deuce can harbor there?"
   "Who, sir? plenty-
   Nobles twenty
 Did at once my vessel fill."-
     "Did they? Jesus,
     How you squeeze us!
 Would to God They did so still:
Then I'd 'scrape the heat and racket
Of the good ship, Lisbon Packet."

Fletcher! Murray! Bob! where are you?
 Stretch'd along the deck like logs-
Bear a hand, you jolly tar, you!
 Here's a rope's end for the dogs,
Hobhouse muttering fearful curses,
 As the hatchway down he rolls,
Now his breakfas, now his verses,
 Vomits forth-and damns our souls.
   "Here's a stanza
   On Braganza-
 Help!" - "A couplet?" - "No, a cup
    Of warm water"-
    "What's the matter?"
 "Zounds! my liver's coming up;
I shall not survive the racket
Of this brutal Lisbon Packet."

Now at length we're off for Turkey,
 Lord knows when we shall come back!
Breezes foul and tempests murky
 May unship us in a crack.
But, since life at most a jest is,
 As philosophers allow,
Still to laugh by far the best is
 Then laugh on - as I do now.
    Laugh at all things,
    Great and small things,
 Sick or well, at sea or shore;
    While we're quaffing,
    Let's have laughing -
 Who the devil cares for more? -
Some good wine! and who would lack it,
Ev'n on board the Lisbon Packet? 

~Lord Byron June 30, 1809
 

Surprised by joy- impatient by the wind'

Surprised by joy- impatient as the wind
I turned to share the transport- OH! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind -
BUt how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss! - That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

~WORDSWORTH

Stagnation
 ~Valentina Richmond

I don't want to exist, I want to live
I don't want to take, I want to give
I don't want to talk, I want to yell
I don't want to say heck, I want to say hell !!!!!
Don't want to hold on, I want to squeeze tight
Don't want a dime, I want a buck!
Don't want a hug, I want a ----

	kiss for good luck

Balade
~Charles D'Orleans

If you wish to sell your kisses,
I will gladly buy some,
And in return you will have my heart as deposit.
To use them as inheritance,
By the dozens, hundreds, or thousands.
Don't sell them to me at as high a price
As you would a total stranger
For you are recieving me as your liegeman.
    If you wish to sell your kisses,
    I will gladly buy some.
    And in return you will have my heart as deposit.
My complete wish and desire
Are yours inspite of all suspicion;
Allow, as a faithful and wise woman,
That for my reward and share
I may be among the first served,
    If you wish to sell your kisses.

Gaius Valerius CATTULLUS 
84?-54? B.C.
51

To me that man seems like a god in heaven,
seems--may I say it?--greater than all the gods are,
who sits by you & without interruption
watches you, listens to your light laughter, which cast confusion
onto my senses,....

85
I hate & love. And if you should ask how I can do both, 
I couldn't say; but I feel it, and it shivers me.

I am making an engine with only one wheel. No spokes of course. The wheel is a perfect square. You see what I am driving at don't you? I am awfully solemn about it, mind you, so you must not think it is a silly story about the mouse and the grapes. No, it's a wheel, I tell the world. And it's all square.
~Letter from Joyce to Harriet Shaw Weaver - 16 April 1927

The Cult of Love
~Hadewijch of Brabant

 1

The birds have long been silent
that were blithe here before:
their blitheness has departed,
they have lost their summer now;
they would swiftly sing again
if that summer came again,
which they have chosen above all
and for which they were born:
one hears it in their voices then.
2

I'll say no more of birds' laments:
thir joy, their pain, is quickly gone;
I have more grievous cause to moan:
Love, to whom we should aspire,
weighs us down with her noble cares,
so we chase after false delights
and Love cannot enfold us then.
Ah, what has baseness done to us!
Who shall erase that faithlessness?


3

The mighty ones, whose hand is strong,
it is on them I still rely,
who work at all times in Love's bond,
heedless of pain, grief, tragedy;
they want to ride through all the land
that lovers loving by love have found,
so perfect is their noble heart;
they know what Love can teach by love,
how Love exalts lovers by love.

4

Why then should anyone refuse,
since by loving Love can be won?
Why not ride, longing, through the storm,
trusting in the power of Love,
aspiring to the cult of Love?
Love's peerlessness will then be seen--
ther, in the brightness of Love's dawn,
where for Love's sake is shunned no pain
and no pain caused by Love weighs down.

5

Often I call for help as a lost one,
but then, when you come close, my dear one,
with new solace you bear me up
and with high spirit I ride on,
sport with my dear so joyously
as if north and south and east
and west all lands belonged to me!
Then suddenly I am dashed down.--
Oh, what use to tell my pain?

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