The Poetry Corner

Two Duets

By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch

From "Arion," an unpublished Masque I He. Aglai-a! Aglai-a! Sweet, awaken and be glad. She. Who is this that calls Aglaia? Is it thou, my dearest lad? He. 'Tis Arion, 'tis Arion, Who calls thee from sleep-- From slumber who bids thee To follow and number His kids and his sheep. She. Nay, leave to entreat me! If mother should spy on Us twain, she would beat me. He. Then come, my love, come! And hide with Arion Where green woods are dumb! She. Ar-i-on! Ar-i-on! Closer, list! I am afraid! He. Whisper, then, thy love Arion, From thy window, lily maid. She. Yet Aglaia, yet Aglaia Hath heard them debate Of wooing repenting-- "Who trust to undoing, Lament them too late." He. Nay, nay, when I woo thee, Thy mother might spy on All harm I shall do thee. She. I come, then--I come! To follow Arion Where green woods be dumb. SONG Sparrow of Love, so sharp to peck, Arrow of Love--I bare my neck Down to the bosom. See, no fleck Of blood! I have never a wound; I go Forth to the greenwood. Yet, heigh-ho! What 'neath my girdle flutters so? 'Tis not a bird, and yet hath wings, 'Tis not an arrow, yet it stings; While in the wound it nests and sings-- Heigh-ho! He. Of Arion, of Arion That wound thou shalt learn; What nothings 'tis made of, And soft pretty soothings In shade of the fern. She. When maids have a mind to, Man's word they rely on, Old warning are blind to-- I come, then--I come To walk with Arion Where green woods are dumb! II He. Dear my love, and O my love, And O my love so lately! Did we wander yonder grove And sit awhile sedately? For either you did there conclude To do at length as I did, Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude, And troth's an oath derided. She. Yea, my love--and nay, my love-- And ask me not to tell, love, While I delay'd an idle day What 'twixt us there befell, love. Yet either I did sit beside And do at length as you did, Or my delight is lightly by An idle lie deluded!