Indifferently

WENDY COPE

Loss

The day he moved out was terrible –

That evening she went through hell.

His absence wasn’t a problem

But the corkscrew had gone as well.

SIR THOMAS WYATT

Farewell Love, and all thy laws for ever!

Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more:

Senec and Plato call me from thy lore,

To perfect wealth my wit for to endeavour.

In blind error when I did persever,

Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,

Hath taught me to set in trifles no store,

And ’scape forth, since liberty is liever.

Therefore farewell! Go trouble younger hearts,

And in me claim no more authority;

With idle youth go use thy property,

And thereon spend thy many brittle darts:

For hitherto though I have lost all my time,

Me lusteth no longer rotten boughs to climb.

 

EDITH NESBIT

Villeggiature

My window, framed in pear-tree bloom,

   White-curtained shone, and softly lighted:

So, by the pear-tree, to my room

   Your ghost last night climbed uninvited.

Your solid self, long leagues away,

   Deep in dull books, had hardly missed me;

And yet you found this Romeo’s way,

   And through the blossom climbed and kissed me.

I watched the still and dewy lawn,

   The pear-tree boughs hung white above you;

I listened to you till the dawn,

   And half forgot I did not love you.

Oh, dear! what pretty things you said,

   What pearls of song you threaded for me!

I did not – till your ghost had fled –

   Remember how you always bore me!

 

HENRY KING

The Double Rock

Since thou hast view’d some Gorgon, and art grown

      A solid stone:

To bring again to softness thy hard heart

      Is past my art.

Ice may relent to water in a thaw;

But stone made flesh Love’s Chemistry ne’re saw.

Therefore by thinking on thy hardness, I

      Will petrify;

And so within our double Quarries’ Womb,

      Dig our Love’s Tomb.

Thus strangely will our difference agree;

And, with our selves, amaze the world, to see

How both Revenge and Sympathy consent

To make two Rocks each others Monument.

 

A. E. HOUSMAN

from A Shropshire Lad

XVIII

Oh, when I was in love with you,

Then I was clean and brave,

And miles around the wonder grew

How well did I behave.

And now the fancy passes by,

And nothing will remain,

And miles around they’ll say that I

Am quite myself again.

 

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

from Merciles Beaute

III [ESCAPE]

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

He may answere, and seye this or that;

I do no fors, I speke right as I mene.

    Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

    I never thenk to ben in his prison lene.

Love hath my name ystrike out of his sclat,

And he is strike out of my bokes clene

For ever-mo; ther is non other mene.

    Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

    I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;

    Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

 

STEPHEN DUNN

Each from Different Heights

That time I thought I was in love

and calmly said so

was not much different from the time

I was truly in love

and slept poorly and spoke out loud

to the wall

and discovered the hidden genius

of my hands.

And the times I felt less in love,

less than someone,

were, to be honest, not so different

either.

Each was ridiculous in its own way

and each was tender, yes,

sometimes even the false is tender.

I am astounded

by the various kisses we’re capable of.

Each from different heights

diminished, which is simply the law.

And the big bruise

from the longer fall looked perfectly white

in a few years.

That astounded me most of all.

 

CHARLOTTE MEW

I So Liked Spring

I so liked Spring last year

    Because you were here; –

            The thrushes too –

Because it was these you so liked to hear –

            I so liked you –

    This year’s a different thing, –

            I’ll not think of you –

But I’ll like Spring because it is simply Spring

            As the thrushes do.

 

DEREK WALCOTT

Love after Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.