Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Thomas Burbidge b. 1816If I Desire
I
To throw a merry hour away,
Comes Love unto me, and my wrongs
In careful tale he doth display,
And asks me how I stand for singing
While I my helpless hands am wringing.
A noon in shady bower would pass,
Comes he with stealthy gestures sly
And flinging down upon the grass,
Quoth he to me: My master dear,
Think of this noontide such a year!
On pillow with intent to sleep,
Lies Love beside me on the bed,
And gives me ancient words to keep;
Says he: These looks, these tokens number,
May be, they ’ll help you to a slumber.
An hour to quiet, comes he still;
And hunts up every sign conceal’d
And every outward sign of ill;
And gives me his sad face’s pleasures
For merriment’s or sleep’s or leisure’s.