Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/539
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LORD LYTTELTON
Whene'er she speaks, my ravish'd ear
No other voice than hers can hear,
No other wit but hers approve:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
No other voice than hers can hear,
No other wit but hers approve:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
If she some other youth commend,
Though I was once his fondest friend,
His instant enemy I prove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
Though I was once his fondest friend,
His instant enemy I prove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
When she is absent, I no more
Delight in all that pleased before—
The clearest spring, or shadiest grove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
Delight in all that pleased before—
The clearest spring, or shadiest grove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
When fond of power, of beauty vain,
Her nets she spread for every swain,
I strove to hate, but vainly strove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
Her nets she spread for every swain,
I strove to hate, but vainly strove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
1709–1784
450.
One-and-Twenty
Long-expected one-and-twenty,
Ling'ring year, at length is flown:
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great * * ** * * *, are now your own.
Ling'ring year, at length is flown:
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great * * ** * * *, are now your own.
Loosen'd from the minor's tether,
Free to mortgage or to sell,
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.
Free to mortgage or to sell,
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.