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The Wine of Love.

Oh! when my lady comes,

And I with love behold her,

I take her to my beating heart

And in my arms enfold her;

My heart is filled with joy divine

For I am hers and she is mine.

Oh! when her soft embraces

Do give my love completeness,

The perfumes of Arabia

Anoint me with their sweetness;

And when her lips are pressed to mine

I am made drunk and need not wine.

The Garden Of Love"

Oh! fair are the flowers, my beloved,

And fairest of any I wait.

A garden art thou, all fragrant and dear,

Thy heart, O mine own, is the gate.

The canal of my love I have fashioned,

And through thee, my garden, it flows-

Dip in its waters refreshing and sweet,

When cool from the north the wind blows.

In our beauteous haunt we will linger,

Thy strong hand reposing in mine-

Then deep be my thoughts and deeper my joy,

Because, O my love, I am thine.

Oh!thy voice is bewitching, beloved,

This wound of my heart it makes whole-

Ah! when thou art coming, and thee I behold,

Thou'rt bread and thou'rt wine to my soul.

"Love's Pretence

With sickness faint a weary

All day in bed I'll lie;

My friends will gather near me

And she'll with them come nigh.

She'll put to shame the doctors

Who'll ponder over me,

For she alone, my loved one,

Knows well my malady.


Seven Days and I've not seen my lady love.

A sickness has shot through me.

I have become sluggish,

And I have forgotten my own body.

If the best surgeons come to me,

My heart will not be comforted with their remedies.

My lady love is more remedial than any potion;

She's better than the whole book of medical lore.

If I see her, then I'll be well....

Distracting is the foliage of my pasture:

The mouth of my girl is a lotus bud,

Her breasts are mandrake apples,

Her arms are viones,

Her eyes are fixed like berries,

Her brow a snare of willow, and I the wild goose!"