FIVE POEMS
Intermittent Fever
Heaven save me ! I'm in love again— Befuddled past the wit of man ; A dupe caught walking in his sleep ; A loon to make the angels weep.
Never burned there fever yet
As wild as love's—for fools to get ! Peace and comfort, quiet, ease ?- Where now ?—perfidious memories. For this to count the world well lost— To chase a maid, and catch a ghost ! Touch but her hand, 'tis to be pricked With keener pangs than thorns inflict ; In a low idle voice, to hear
The knell of all things once held dear Ina cold, sweet, indifferent face To search in vain for hint of grace
And Oh, to lie awake at night—
Those taunting eyes of all delight !
Or dream ; and, waking, find her gone Whose absence brought the anguish on I Never again shall every sense
Be drugged by love's dark influence ; Never shall lips, whose wisest word Folly alone with pleasure heard, Entice this mind and heart to plan Merely to prove her Maid ; me, man And yet .. Bright heaven, what else is worth A single hour with her on earth !
WALTER DE LA MARE
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