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WILL not have the mad Clytie,

Whose head is turn'd by the sun;
The Tulip is a courtly quean,
Whom therefore I will shun;
The Cowslip is a country wench,
The Violet is a nun ;-
But I will woo the dainty Rose,


every one.

The Pea is but a wanton witch,
In too much haste to wed,
And clasps her rings on every hand;
The Wolfsbane I should dread;
Nor will I dreary Rosemarye,
That always mourns the dead ;-
But I will woo the dainty Rose,
With her cheeks of tender red.

The Lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me-
And the Daisy's cheek is tipp'd with a blush,
She is of such low degree;
Jasmin is sweet, and has many loves,
And the Broom's betroth'd to the Bee ;-
But I will plight with the dainty Rose,
For fairest of all is she !




THE Mountain and the Squirrel

Had a quarrel, And the former call’d the latter “ Little Prig :” Bun replied, “ You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together To make up a year, And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry: I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel-track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put ; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut.”




SI lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
Merry sang the Bird as she sat upon the

spray ; There came a noble Knight With his hauberk shining bright,

And his gallant heart was light,

Free, and gay;
And as I lay a-thinking, he rode upon



As I lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
Sadly sang the Bird as she sat upon the tree ;

There seem'd a crimson plain,
Where a gallant Knight lay slain,
And a steed with broken rein

Ran free ;
As I lay a-thinking--most pitiful to see.

As I lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
Merry sang the Bird as she sat upon the bough;

A lovely Maid came by,
And a gentle Youth was nigh,
And he breathed many a sigh

And a vow;

As I lay a-thinking-her heart was gladsome now.

As I lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
Sadly sang the Bird as she sat upon the thorn ;

No more a Youth was there,
But a Maiden rent her hair,
And cried in sad despair,

66 That I was born!
As I lay a-thinking-she perished forlorn.

As I lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
Sweetly sang the Bird as she sat upon the briar;

There came a lovely Child,
And his face was meek and mild,
Yet joyously he smiled

On his sire;
As I lay a-thinking--a cherub might admire.

But as I lay a-thinking, a-thinking, a-thinking,
And sadly sang the Bird as it perch'd upon a bier;

That joyous smile was gone,
And the face was white and wan,
As the down upon the swan

Doth appear;

As I lay a-thinking-oh, bitter flow'd the tear !

As I lay a-thinking, the golden sun was sinking,
O merry sang that Bird as it glitter'd on her

With a thousand gorgeous dyes,
While soaring to the skies
'Mid the stars she seem'd to rise

As to her nest;
As I lay a-thinking, her meaning was exprest :

Follow, follow me away!
It boots not to delay,"-
('Twas so she seem'd to say)
5. Here is rest!"




, thinking, seeing,

OVE me, sweet, with all thou art,

Love me in the lightest part,

Love me in full being.

Love me with thine open youth

In its frank surrender;
With the vowing of thy mouth,

With its silence tender.

Love me with thine azure eyes

Made for earnest granting ;Taking colour from the skies,

Can Heaven's truth be wanting ?

Love me with their lids that fall

Snow-like at first meeting : Love me with thine heart, that all

The neighbours then see beating.

Love me with thy hand stretch'd out

Freely-open-minded :
Love me with thy loitering foot,-

Hearing one behind it.

Love me with thy voice that turns

Sudden faint above me ;
Love me with thy blush that burns

When I murmur - Love me!"

Love me with thy thinking soul

Break it to love-sighing; Love me with thy thoughts that roll

On through living-dying.

Love me in thy gorgeous airs,

When the world has crown'd thee: Love me, kneeling at thy prayers,

With the angels round thee.

Love me pure, as musers do,

Up the woodlands shady : Love me gaily, fast, and true,

As a winsome lady. Through all hopes that keep us brave,

Further off or nigher,

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