Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
II. Loves NatureSong: Love still has something
Sir Charles Sedley (16391701)L
From whence his Mother rose;
No time his slaves from love can free,
Nor give their thoughts repose.
And in rough weather tost;
They wither under cold delays,
Or are in tempests lost.
Then straight into the main
Some angry wind in cruel sport
Their vessel drives again.
Which if they chance to ’scape,
Rivals and falsehood soon appear
In a more dreadful shape.
And are so long withstood,
So slowly they receive the sum,
It hardly does them good.
And to defer a bliss,
Believe me, gentle Hermione,
No less inhuman is.
Perhaps would not remove,
And if I gazed a thousand years,
I could no deeper love.
Than for me to explain,
But grant, oh! grant that happiness,
Which only does remain.