RICHARD ALDINGTON
183
V
Pulvis et umbra! Chloe, why
Quench my desire with ill-bred gloom,
Since many an amorous death we die
Ere we are borne to lie
Loveless and chilly in th' uncomely tomb?
Why, pretty fool, is that a tear
Wronging the cheek I kissed so late?
There is no dust or shadow here;
Come, kiss me without fear
And let me bring you to the ivory gate.
VI
Daphnis, pray breathe this pastoral vein;
Strew not my broidered sheets with flowers
Dripping cold rain;
Can any civil maid embrace
Daffodils dropped in freezing showers
That soil her lace?
Be (if you choose) a poet, but
Expect to find my window shut;
Though Chloe loves whene'er she can
She loves no pseudo-shepherd-man.
