sailors, and skilled to steer right in gales
That craze pilots, if slow to sing--"Sleep'st thou? thou dream'st
o' me!"
In such love-strains as mine--or a nightingale's.

XIII

Ah, now, look you--tail foremost, the beast sets seaward--
The sea draws it, sand sucks it--he's wise, my crab!
From the napkin out jumps his one talent--good steward,
Just judge! So a man shirks the smile or the stab,
And sets his sail duly to leeward!

XIV

Trust me? Hardly! I bid you not lean (remark)
On my spirit, your spirit--my flesh, your flesh--
Hold my hand, and tread safe through the horrible dark--
Quench my soul as with sprinklings of snow, then refresh
With some blast of new bellows the spark!

XV

By no means! This were easy (men tell me) to say--
"Give her all, throw your chance up, fall back on her heart!"
(Say my friends) "she must change! after night follows day--"
No such fool! I am safe set in hell, for my part--
So let heaven do the worst now he may!

XVI

What they bid me? Well, this, nothing more--"Tell her this--
'You are mine, I yours, though the whole world fail--
Though things are not, I know there is one thing which is--
Though the oars break, there's hope for us yet--hoist the sail!
Oh, your heart! what's the heart? but your kiss!'

XVII

"Then she breaks, she drops down, she lies flat at your feet--
Take her then!" Well, I knew it--what fools are men!
Take the bee by her horns, will your honey prove sweet?
Sweet is grass--will you pasture your cows in a fen?
Oh, if contraries could but once meet!

XVIII

Love you call it? Some twitch in the moon's face (observe),
Wet blink of her eyelid, tear dropt about dewfall,
Cheek flushed or obscured--does it make the sky swerve?
Fetch the test, work the question to rags, bring to proof all--
Find what souls want and bodies deserve!

XIX

Ah, we know you! Your soul works to infinite ends,
Frets, uses life up for death's sake, takes pains,
Flings down love's self--"but you, bear me witness, my friends!
Have I lost spring? count up (see) the winter's fresh gains!
Is the shrub spoilt? the pine's hair impends!"

XX

What, you'd say--"Mark how God works! Years crowd, time wears thin,
Earth keeps good yet, the sun goes on, stars hold their own,
And you'll change, climb past sight of the world, shift your skin,
Never heeding how life moans--'more flesh now, less bone!'
For that cheek's worn waste outline