The letter, embassies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries (Numberless, nameless mysteries!) And all the little lime-twigs laid By Machiavel the waiting-maid

I more voluminous should grow
(Chiefly if I like them should tell
All change of weathers that befell)
Than Holinshed or Stow.

But I will briefer with them be,
Since few of them were long with me.
An higher and a nobler strain
My present emperess does claim-
Heleonora, first of the name;

Whom God grant long to reign!

I lounge in the ilex shadows, I see the lady lean, Unclasping her silken girdle,

The curtain's folds between.

She smiles on her white-rose lover, She reaches out her hand

And helps him in at the window – I see it where I stand!

To her scarlet lip she holds him,
And kisses him many a time-
Ah, me! it was he that won her
Because he dared to climb!

THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.

The Nun.

ABRAHAM COWLEY.

IF you become a nun, dear,

A friar I will be;

In any cell you run, dear,

Pray look behind for me.

The roses all turn pale, too;
The doves all take the veil, too;

The blind will see the show; What! you become a nun, my dear, I'll not believe it, no!

If you become a nun, dear,

The bishop Love will be;

The Cupids every one, dear,

Will chant, "We trust in thee!"

The incense will go sighing,

The candles fall a dying,

The water turn to wine:

What! you go take the vows, my dear?

You may-but they'll be mine.

Crabbed Age and Youth.

CRABBED age and youth

Cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave,

Age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short;

Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold;

Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee,
Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my love, my love is young!

Age, I do defy thee;

O, sweet shepherd! hie thee,

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

LEIGH HUNT.

Nocturne.

UP to her chamber window A slight wire trellis goes, And up this Romeo's ladder

Clambers a bold white rose.

The Maiden's Choice.

GENTEEL in personage,
Conduct and equipage;
Noble by heritage;

Generous and free;

287

The Wanderer.

LOVE comes back to his vacant dwelling-
The old, old Love that we knew of yore!
We see him stand by the open door,

With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling.

He makes as though in our arms repelling
He fain would lie, as he lay before;
Love comes back to his vacant dwelling-
The old, old Love which we knew of yore!
Ah, who shall help us from over-spelling
That sweet forgotten, forbidden Love!
E'en as we doubt, in our heart once move,
With a rush of tears to our eyelids welling,
Love comes back to his vacant dwelling!

AUSTIN DOBSON.

If I Mesire with Pleasant Songs.

IF I desire with pleasant songs

To throw a merry hour away,
Comes Love unto me, and my wrongs

In careful tale he doth display,
And asks me how I stand for singing,
While I my helpless hands am wringing.

And then another time, if I

A noon in shady bower would pass, Comes he with stealthy gestures sly,

And flinging down upon the grass, Quoth he to me: My master dear, Think of this noontide such a year!

And if elsewhile I lay my head

On pillow, with intent to sleep,

Lies Love beside me on the bed,

And gives me ancient words to keep;

Says he: These looks, these tokens number; May be, they'll help you to a slumber.

So every time when I would yield
An hour to quiet, comes he still;
And hunts up every sign concealed,
And every outward sign of ill;
And gives me his sad face's pleasures
For merriment's, or sleep's, or leisure's.

The Annoyer.

LOVE knoweth every form of air,
And every shape of earth,
And comes unbidden everywhere,

Like thought's mysterious birth. The moonlit sea and the sunset sky Are written with Love's words, And you hear his voice unceasingly, Like song in the time of birds.

He peeps into the warrior's heart
From the tip of a stooping plume,
And the serried spears, and the many men,
May not deny him room.

He'll come to his tent in the weary night,

And be busy in his dream,

And he'll float to his eye in the morning light, Like a fay on a silver beam.

He hears the sound of the hunter's gun,
And rides on the echo back,

And sighs in his ear like a stirring leaf,

And flits in his woodland track.

The shade of the wood, and the sheen of the river, The cloud and the open sky,

He will haunt them all with his subtle quiver, Like the light of your very eye.

The fisher hangs over the leaning boat, And ponders the silver sea,

For Love is under the surface hid,

And a spell of thought has he. He heaves the wave like a bosom sweet, And speaks in the ripple low,

Till the bait is gone from the crafty line, And the hook hangs bare below.

He blurs the print of the scholar's book,
And intrudes in the maiden's prayer,
And profanes the cell of the holy man
In the shape of a lady fair.

In the darkest night, and the bright daylight,
In earth, and sea, and sky,

In every home of human thought

Will Love be lurking nigh.

NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS.

THOMAS BURBIDGE.