Gaze at the rose, and smile, my rose, in mine eyes the

while :

To thee the roses belong, thy voice is the nightingale's

song:

Give thou the rose a kiss, it blushes like thy mouth's

bliss:

Flowers in a picture seem not flowers, but flowers in a dream:

Who paints the rose's bloom, paints not the rose's perfume.

In complete contrast to this conceited and euphuistic style of composition stands a slight snatch of rustic melody, consisting of little but reiteration and refrain.

A BIRD'S SONG OF LOVE.

No. 31.

Come to me, come, O come!

Let me not die, but come!

Hyria hysria nazaza
Trillirivos.

Fair is thy face, O fair!

Fair thine eyes, O how fair!

Hyria hysria nazaza

Trillirivos.

Fair is thy flowing hair!

O fair, O fair, how fair!

Hyria hysria nazaza
Trillirivos.

Redder than rose art thou,

Whiter than lily thou!

Hyria hysria nazaza
Trillirivos.

Fairer than all, I vow,

Ever my pride art thou!

Hyria hysria nazaza
Trillirivos.

The following displays an almost classical intensity of voluptuous passion, and belongs in all probability to a period later than the Carmina Burana. I have ventured, in translating it, to borrow the structure of a song which occurs in Fletcher's Rollo (act v. scene 2), the first stanza of which is also found in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure (act iv. scene 1), and to insert one or two phrases from Fletcher's version. Whether the composer of that song had ever met with the Latin lyric to Lydia can scarcely form the subject of critical conjecture. Yet there is a faint evanescent resemblance between the two poems.

TO LYDIA.

No. 32.

Lydia bright, thou girl more white
Than the milk of morning new,
Or young lilies in the light!

Matched with thy rose-whiteness, hue

Of red rose or white rose pales,

And the polished ivory fails,

Ivory fails.

Spread, O spread, my girl, thy hair,
Amber-hued and heavenly bright,

As fine gold or golden air!

Show, O show thy throat so white, Throat and neck that marble fine

Over thy white breasts incline,

Breasts incline.

Lift, O lift thine eyes that are

Underneath those eyelids dark, Lustrous as the evening star

'Neath the dark heaven's purple arc! Bare, O bare thy cheeks of rose, Dyed with Tyrian red that glows,

Red that glows.

K

Give, O give those lips of love
That the coral boughs eclipse;
Give sweet kisses, dove by dove,
Soft descending on my lips.
See my soul how forth she flies!

'Neath each kiss my pierced heart dies,

Pierced heart dies.

Wherefore dost thou draw my life,

Drain my heart's blood with thy kiss? Scarce can I endure the strife

Of this ecstasy of bliss!
Set, O set my poor heart free,

Bound in icy chains by thee,

Chains by thee.

Hide, O hide those hills of snow,
Twinned upon thy breast that rise,
Where the virgin fountains flow
With fresh milk of Paradise!
Thy bare bosom breathes of myrrh,
From thy whole self pleasures stir,
Pleasures stir.

Hide, O hide those paps that tire
Sense and spirit with excess
Of snow-whiteness and desire
Of thy breast's deliciousness!

See'st thou, cruel, how I swoon?

Leav'st thou me half lost so soon?

Lost so soon?

In rendering this lyric to Lydia, I have restored the fifth stanza, only one line of which,

"Quid mihi sugis vivum sanguinem,"

remains in the original. This I did because it seemed necessary to effect the transition from the stanzas beginning Pande, puella, pande, to those beginning Cond papillas, conde.

Among these more direct outpourings of personal passion, place may be found for a delicate little Poem of Privacy, which forms part of the Carmina Burana. Unfortunately, the text of this slight piece is very defective in the MS., and has had to be conjecturally restored in several places.

A POEM OF PRIVACY.

No. 33.

When a young man, passion-laden,
In a chamber meets a maiden,

Then felicitous communion,
By love's strain between the twain,
Grows from forth their union;

For the game, it hath no name,
Of lips, arms, and hidden charms.