POEM

Love and Friendship
Love is like the wild rose–briar,
Friendship like the holly–tree—
The holly is dark when the rose–briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose–briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild–briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose–wreath now
And deck thee* with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy* brow
He still may leave thy garland green.
-Emily Brontë-
Taken from The Golden Treasury, 2003


The True Beauty
He that loves a rosy cheek
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star—like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fi res;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his fl ames must waste away.
But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fi res:—
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
-T. C arew-
Taken from The Golden Treasury, 2003