Love’s Masquerading
By Laman Blanchard
I.
Love never less surprises
Than when his tricks are tried;
In vain are all disguises,
Himself he cannot hide.
He came, the Masquerader,
To conscious Kate, one day,
Attempting to persuade her;
He then was—far away!
“Ah Love!” she cried, unfearing,
“Take any shape you will,
Strange, distant, or endearing,
This heart would know you still.”
II.
Then Love came clad like Sorrow;
His robe was dark as night;
But like a golden morrow,
Flash’d forth his forehead’s light;
She knew him, as with languor
He play’d the wounded dove:
Then fierce he frown’d—’twas Anger!
But still she knew ’twas Love!
III.
Then came he wreathed like Pleasure;
In vain he cried, “Rejoice!”
And sang a laughing measure—
She knew him, by his voice.
He tuned his tongue to railing,
Performing Envy’s task;
His scowl was unavailing,
She saw him—through his mask.
IV.
Like cloak’d Revenge then stealing,
With poniard bare he came,
His limbs, his looks, concealing—
Yet still he seem’d the same.
Then he, his thoughts dissembling,
With Jealousy’s wild air,
Stood raging, watching, trembling,—
Yet Love alone stood there.
V.
Next came he garb’d like Malice;
Yet wore his cheek the rose,
No poison crowns his chalice,
With wine it overflows.
And then as Joy, arrayed in
Rare colours from above;
He failed again—the maiden
In Joy saw only Love!
VI.
Then casting off his splendour,
He took black Hatred’s guise;
But all his tones were tender,
She knew him—by his eyes.
In all he fail’d; when glancing
Like Fear, afraid to stir;
And when like Hope, half-dancing—
For Hope was Love to her.
“In vain,” she cried, “your powers,
Take any shape you may;
Are hearts less wise than flowers,
That know the night from day?”