The Affliction of Richard
Love not too much. But how,
When thou hast made me such,
And dost thy gifts bestow,
. . .
Love not too much. But how,
When thou hast made me such,
And dost thy gifts bestow,
. . .
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
. . .
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
. . .
Deep in a vale, a stranger now to arms,
Too poor to shine in courts, too proud to beg,
He, who once warred on Saratoga’s plains, . . .
“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing
On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”
“The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye, . . .
We have walked in Love's land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day, . . .
Side by side through the streets at midnight,
Roaming together,
Through the tumultuous night of London, . . .
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight . . .
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's . . .
Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth didst by my side remain,
Till snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true, . . .