O that I were where Helen lies! Says, 'Haste and come to me!' O Helen fair! O Helen chaste! I wish my grave were growing green, I wish I were where Helen lies: Since my love died for me. Anon. CVIII THE TWA CORBIES S I was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, 'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?' 6 - In behint yon auld fail dyke, 'His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, So we may mak our dinner sweet. 'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pick out his bonny blue een: Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. 'Mony a one for him makes mane, Anon. FA CIX TO BLOSSOMS AIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night? 'T was pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave. R. Herrick F CX TO DAFFODILS AIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Until the hasting day But to the even-song; We have short time to stay, as you, 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. R. Herrick CXI THOUGHTS IN A GARDEN H OW vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their incessant labours see Crown'd from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow-vergéd shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close To weave the garlands of Repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen When we have run our passion's heat Apollo hunted Daphne so What wondrous life is this I lead ! Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less The mind, that ocean where each kind To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot Such was that happy Garden-state While man there walk'd without a mate : |