My Love’s Glances
What care I for the gadding crowds, that gaze
In meaningless and full uncomely guise?
One glance born in the deeps of my Love’s eyes
Doth secrets tell that all my soul amaze.
Ah! like a glittering sword divine, that slays
Those low-born cares that meaner times devise,
It is; and yet, such love within it lies,
It seems no less than sweet compassion’s praise.
I gather all these precious beams; and deep
They hide within a treasure-chest — my heart —
Where no corruption to my wealth may creep,
Polluting with a death-defying smart.
And there my riches ever shall I keep
Until its walls in ruin fall apart!
William Blocksidge, Songs o’ the South, London: Watts, 1908, p. 33
doth = (archaic) does
gad = go from place to place in search of pleasure (to gad about, in pursuit of amusement or entertainment); to go about idly