194 THE LOVER IN THE GARDEN 



SONG 



JUST like Love is yonder Rose, 

 Heavenly fragrance round it throws, 

 Yet tears its dewy leaves disclose, 

 And in the midst of briars it blows, 

 Just like Love. 



Cull'd to bloom upon the breast, 

 Since rough thorns the stem invest, 

 They must be gather'd with the rest, 

 And with it to the heart be prest, 

 Just like Love. 



And when rude hands the twin-buds sever, 

 They die, and they shall blossom never ; 

 Yet the thorns be sharp as ever, 

 Just like Love. 



Luiz DE CAMOENS. 

 (Translation.) 



SONNET 



THE forward violet thus did I chide : 



Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that 



smells, 



If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride 

 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells 

 In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed. 



