Twenty Days
Twenty days are barely gone,
I was merry all the day.
Folly was my butt of scorn.
Now the fool myself I play.
Wit and learning ruled my head,
Logic and economy.
All the books I ever read Taught me only vanity.
Most of all it moved my mirth Womankind the world should rule.
Man, the lord of all the Earth!
He, forsooth, a woman's tool!
Cherry lip and glancing eye!
What were rosy cheeks to me?
Beauty's truth was but a lie-- Witness tomes of history!
Twenty days had barely run.
Twenty years they well might be.
All my wisdom was undone,
Reason bade good--night to me.
Her hair was of the red red gold,
Her blue eyes looked me through and through.
She was twenty--three years old,
I was twenty years and two.
Fortune, fame,
I freely give,
Honour's self, if so she please,
Sweetly in her smile to live Other twenty days like these.
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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O LY not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure; Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay: For my heart no measure Knows, nor other
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O LD, in very truth thou art too young; When wilt thou learn to wear the garb of age World, with thy covering of yellow flowers,
Sed Nos Qui Vivimus
How beautiful is life--the physical joy of sense and breathing; The glory of the world which has found speech and speaks to us; The robe which summer throws in June round the white bones of winter; The new birth of each day, itself ...
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I NG have had a quarrel set with Because he robb'd me Every day of
