A TERNARY OF LITTLES,

UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLY SENT TO A LADY.

A LITTLE saint best fits a little shrine,
A little prop best fits a little vine;

As my small cruse best fits my little wine.

A little seed best fits a little soil,
A little trade best fits a little toil;
As my small jar best fits my little oil.

A little bin best fits a little bread,
A little garland fits a little head;
As my small stuff best fits my little shed.

A little hearth best fits a little fire,
A little Chapel fits a little Quire;
As my small bell best fits my little spire.

A little stream best fits a little boat,
A little lead best fits a little float;
As my small pipe best fits my little note.

A little meat best fits a little belly,

As sweetly, Lady, give me leave to tell ye!
This little Pipkin fits this little Jelly.

CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE.

Down with the Rosemary and Bays!

Down with the Mistletoe!
Instead of Holly; now upraise

The greener Box, for show!

The Holly hitherto did sway;
Let Box now domineer,
Until the dancing Easter Day,
Or Easter's Eve, appear!

Then youthful Box, which now hath grace
Your houses to renew,

Grown old, surrender must his place
Unto the crispèd Yew.

When Yew is out; then Birch comes in!

And many flowers beside,

Both of a fresh and fragrant kin,

To honour Whitsuntide.

Green Rushes then, and sweetest Bents,

With cooler Oaken boughs,

Come in, for comely ornaments

To re-adorn the house.

Thus times do shift! Each thing his turn does hold; New things succeed, as former things grow old!

MISTRESS ELIZABETH WHEELER,

UNDER THE NAME OF

THE LOST SHEPHERDESS.

AMONG the myrtles, as I walked, LOVE and my sighs thus intertalked. 'Tell me,' said I, in deep distress, 'Where I may find my Shepherdess?'

'Thou fool!' said LovE, 'know'st thou not this? In every thing that 's sweet, she is!

In yond Carnation, go and seek!

There, thou shalt find her lip and cheek!

In that enamelled Pansy by;

There, thou shalt have her curious eye!
In bloom of Peach, and Rose's bud;
There, waves the streamer of her blood!'
"Tis true!' said I; and thereupon

I went to pluck them, one by one,
To make of parts a union:

But, on a sudden, all were gone!

At which I stopped. Said LOVE, These be

The true resemblances of thee!

For, as these flowers, thy joys must die;

And in the turning of an eye!

And all thy hopes of her must wither,
Like those short sweets, ere knit together!'

COMFORT TO A YOUTH,

THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE.

WHAT needs complaints?
When She a place
Has with the race
Of Saints!

In endless mirth;
She thinks not on
What's said, or done,
In earth!

She sees no tears!

Or any tone

Of thy deep groan
She hears!

Nor does She mind,
Or think on 't now,

That ever thou
Wast kind!

But changed above;

She likes not there,
As She did here,

Thy love!

Forbear therefore!
And lull asleep

Thy woes! and weep
No more!

TO DAFFADILS.

FAIR daffadils! we weep to see
You haste away so soon!

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attained his noon!
Stay! stay

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the Even Song!
And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along!

We have short time to stay, as you!
We have as short a Spring!
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you, or any thing!
We die,

As your hours do! and dry
Away,

Like to the Summer's rain!

Or as the pearls of Morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again!