LOVE - Cędmon Poems

 
 

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LOVE

Canst thou love me, lady?
    I've not learn'd to woo:
Thou art on the shady
    Side of sixty too.
Still I love thee dearly!
    Thou hast lands and pelf:
But I love thee merely
    Merely for thyself.

Wilt thou love me, fairest?
    Though thou art not fair;
And I think thou wearest
    Someone-else's hair.
Thou could'st love, though, dearly:
    And, as I am told,
Thou art very nearly
    Worth thy weight, in gold.

Dost thou love me, sweet love?
    Tell me that thou dost!
Women fairly beat one,
    But I think thou must.
Thou art loved so dearly:
    I am plain, but then
Thou (to speak sincerely)
    Art as plain again.

Love me, bashful fairy!
    I've an empty purse:
And I've "moods," which vary;
    Mostly for the worse.
Still, I love thee dearly:
    Though I make (I feel)
Love a little queerly,
    I'm as true as steel.

Love me, swear to love me
    (As, you know, they do)
By yon heaven above me
    And its changeless blue.
Love me, lady, dearly,
    If you'll be so good;
Though I don't see clearly
    On what ground you should.

Love me -- ah or love me
    Not, but be my bride!
Do not simply shove me
    (So to speak) aside!
P'raps it would be dearly
    Purchased at the price;
But a hundred yearly
    Would be very nice.