a corner of the common, where the hedgerows go curving off into a fort of bay, round a clear bright pond, the earliest haunt of the swallow. A deep, woody, green lane, such as Hobima or Ruyfdael might have painted—a lane that hints of nightingales— forms one boundary of the garden, and a floping meadow the other; while the cottage itself, a low, thatched, irregular building, backed by a blooming orchard, and covered with honeysuckle and jeffamine, looks like the chofen abode of fnugness and comfort. And so it is."

The village of Micklethorpe, pictured by Charles Mackay in one of his best poems, is not lefs pleafing:-

Embower'd amid the Surrey Hills
The quiet village lay,

Two rows of ancient cottages
Beside the public way,

A modest church, with ivied tower,
And spire with mosses grey.

Beneath the elm's o'er-arching boughs

The little children ran;

The self-same shadows fleck'd the sward
In days of good Queen Anne;

And then, as now, the children sang

Beneath its branches tall

They grew, they loved, they sinned, they died-—
The tree outlived them all.

But still the human flow'rets grew,

And still the children play'd,

And ne'er the tree lack'd youthful feet
To frolic in its shade,

The ploughboy's whistle in the spring,
Or chant of happy maid.

Not less welcome will be the lines on the "Lovers' Tree,"

by Charles Shelton, a poet among a people who ftill look up to England as the honoured home of their fathers.

MAY DAY.

NCE in the year at least, the villages of England presented a scene of joyous festivities. It was when the first of May ushered in the vernal Spring, and when the hearty fummons was heard :—

Come, lasses and lads, take leave of your dads,

And away to the May-pole hie;

For every he, has got him a she,

And the minstrel's standing by.

"The youth of the country" (fays Stevenson, the old writer upon Agriculture) "make ready for the morris dance, and the merry milkmaid fupplies them with ribands her true love had given her. The tall young oak is cut down for a May-pole, and the frolic fry of the town prevent the rifing of the fun, and, with joy in their faces, and boughs in their hands, they march before it,"

to the village green. It was an incident of this festive day, that Lady Craven has preferved in these lines:

Colin met Sylvia on the green

Once on the charming first of May,
And shepherds ne'er tell false, I ween,
Yet 'twas by chance, the shepherds say.

Colin he bow'd and blush'd, then said,
"Will you, sweet maid, this first of May,
Begin the dance by Colin led,
To make this quite his holiday?"

Sylvia replied, "I ne'er from home
Yet ventured till this first of May;
It is not fit for maids to roam,
And make a shepherd's holiday."

"It is most fit," replied the youth,
"That Sylvia should, this first of May,
By me be taught that love and truth.
Can make of life a holiday."

At the entertainment given at Elvetham, by the Earl of Hereford, to Queen Elizabeth, in 1591, her Majefty was awakened in the morning by "three excellent mufitians, who, being disguised in auncient country attire, did greete her with a pleasant song of Corydon and Phillida, made in three partes of purpose. The fong, as well for the worth of the dittie as the aptnefs of the note thereto applied, foe pleased Her Highneffe after it had been once fung, as to commande it again and highly to grace it with her cheerfull acceptaunce and commendation." We are unable to give the "note thereto applied;" but as it was favoured with an encore by

one who was a skilful musician, not lefs than an able fovereign,

we may affume that it was appropriate, and give only the words which Breton has preferved:

In the merrie moneth of Maye,
In a morne by break of daye,
With a troop of damsells playing,
Forth I yode forsooth a Maying

Where anon by a wood side,
Where as May was in his pride,
I espied all alone

Phillida and Corydon.

Much adoe there was, God wot:
He wold love and she wold not;
She sayde never man was trewe ;
He sayes none was false to you.

He sayed he had lovde her longe :

She sayes love should have no wronge.
Corydon would kisse her then :

She sayes maids must kisse no men,

Tyll they doe for good and all.

When she made the shepherde call

All the heavens to wytness truthe,
Never lov'd a truer youthe.

Then with many a prettie othe,
Yea and naye, and faithe and trothe;
Such as gentle shepperdes use
When they will not love abuse;

Love that had been long deluded,
Was with kisses swete concluded;
And Phillida with garlands gaye,
Was made the ladye of the Maye.