First World War Poetry Digital Archive

The Rivals

THE RIVALS If thou guessed what easy hours I can fleet among my flowers, How I fondle them, and how Find them better friends than Thou, Haply, love, the thing might shame thee; Haply with some spite inflame thee. Nay, indeed, thou art not all; And I can forget thy thrall. For I shall when summer comes Sport me with my garden chums, Orchid, harebell, fern, and foxglove. Then thou'lt tear thy pretty locks, love, Twisting curls round jealous fingers....; When thou find'st thy true love lingers Longer o'er the rose than thee, Know thou hast great rivalry; Cry to see it, careless elf, Bite thy lips, but blame thyself! Many a slim tree, dark of tresses, Whispering, gives me strange caresses. Steadfast shines Narcissus' eye When I would his beauty try. And he loads my sighs with scent, Not with frowns of discontent. Water lilies all tranquil lie When their secrecies I spy. Ruddy pout the mouths of roses--- More I kiss, more each uncloses. Even violets, who are shy Of their cousin in the sky, Do not stiffen or resent When a fingertip is bent Round their chins. And if, like thee, Little snowdrops were foot-free, Would they run from me, and vent Laughs of scornful merriment? Nay, they love me, as I them. Oh, my loves of bud and stem, Tell my Maid what lightsome hours I spend with you in your bowers This may pique her jealousy; Haply charm her back to me.

Citation

“The Rivals,” by Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918). The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto & Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted. via First World War Poetry Digital Archive, accessed May 4, 2024, http://ww1lit.nsms.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/collections/item/3358.

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