Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE IVORY GATE; LOVE-IN-IDLENESS, by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE IVORY GATE; LOVE-IN-IDLENESS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Shall I be your first love, lady, shall I be your first
Last Line: And then die, weeping you.'
Subject(s): Love - Beginnings


'Shall I be your first love, lady, shall I be your first?
Oh! then I'll fall before you, down on my velvet knee,
And deeply bend my rosy head and press it upon thee,
And swear that there is nothing more, for which my heart doth thirst,
But a downy kiss, and pink,
Between your lips' soft chink.'


'Yes, you shall be my first love, boy, and you shall be my first,
And I will raise you up again unto my bosom's fold;
And, when you kisses many one on lip and cheek have told,
I'll you loose upon the grass, to leave me if you durst;
And so we'll toy away
The night besides the day.'


'But let me be your second love, but let me be your second,
For then I'll tap so gently, dear, upon your window pane,
And creep between the curtains in, where never man has lain,
And never leave thy gentle side till the morning star hath beckoned,
Within the silken lace
Of thy young arms' embrace.'


'Well thou shalt be my second love, yes, gentle boy, my second,
And I will wait at eve for thee within my lonely bower,
And yield unto thy kisses, like a bud to April's shower,
From moon-set till the tower-clock the hour of dawn hath reckoned,
And lock thee with my arms
All silent up in charms.'


'No, I will be thy third love, lady, ay I will be the third,
And break upon thee, bathing, in woody place alone,
And catch thee to my saddle and ride o'er stream and stone,
And press thee well, and kiss thee well, and never speak a word,
'Till thou hast yielded up
The margin of love's cup.'


'Then thou shalt not be my first love, boy, nor my second, nor my third;
If thou'rt the first, I'll laugh at thee, and pierce thy flesh with thorns;
If the second, from my chamber pelt with jeering laugh and scorns;
And if thou darest be the third, I'll draw my dirk unheard
And cut thy heart in two, --
And then die, weeping you.'

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