Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke

Richard Middleton (1882–1911)

Any Lover, Any Lass

WHY are her eyes so bright, so bright,

Why do her lips control

The kisses of a summer night,

When I would love her soul?

God set her brave eyes wide apart

And painted them with fire,

They stir the ashes of my heart

To embers of desire.

Her lips so tenderly are wrought

In so divine a shape,

That I am servant to my thought

And can nowise escape.

Her body is a flower, her hair

About her neck doth play;

I find her colours everywhere,

They are the pride of day.

Her little hands are soft, and when

I see her fingers move

I know in very truth that men

Have died for less than love.

Ah, dear, live, lovely thing! my eyes

Have sought her like a prayer;

It is my better self that cries

“Would she were not so fair!”

Would I might forfeit ecstasy

And find a calmer place,

Where I might undesirous see

Her too desiréd face.

Nor feel her eyes so bright, so bright,

Nor hear her lips unroll

Dream after dream the lifelong night,

When I would love her soul.