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EDMUND SPENSER.

So far from being proud.

The praises of the Lord in lively notes ;
Nathless do ye still loud her praises sing,

The whiles, with hollow throats,
That all the woods may answer, and your echo The choristers the joyous anthem sing,
ring.

That all the woods may answer, and their echo

ring
Tell me, ye merchants' daughters, did ye see
So fair a creature in your town before ?

Behold, while she before the altar stands,
So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she,

Hearing the holy priest that to her speaks,
Adorned with beauty's grace, and virtue's store ; And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright,

How the red roses flush up in her cheeks,
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath Like crimson dyed in grain ;

And the pure snow with goodly vermeil stain, rudded,

That even the angels, which continually
Her lips like cherries charming men to bite,

About the sacred altar do remain,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudded.

Forget their service and about her fly,

Oft peeping in her face, that seems more fair,
Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze,

The more they on it stare.
Upon her so to gaze,

But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground,
Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,

Are governed with goodly modesty,
To which the woods did answer, and your echo That suffers not a look to glance awry,
ring?

Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Why blush you, love, to give to me your

hand, But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,

The pledge of all our band ?
The inward beauty of her lively sprite,
Garnished with heavenly gifts of high degree,

Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluia sing,

That all the woods may answer, and your echo
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,

ring.
And stand astonished like to those which red *
Medusa's mazeful head.
There dwells sweet Love, and constant Chastity,
Unspotted Faith, and comely Womanhood,

LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT.
Regard of Honor, and mild Modesty ;
There Virtue reigns as queen in royal throne, It 's we two, it's we two for aye,
And giveth laws alone,

Allthe world, and wetwo, and Heaven be our stay!
The which the base affections do obey,

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! And yield their services unto her will;

All the world was Adam once, with Eve by his
Ne thought of things uncomely ever may

side.
Thereto approach to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seen these her celestial treasures,

What's the world, my lass, my love!

what can And unrevealèd pleasures,

it do ?
Then would ye wonder and her praises sing,
That all the woods should answer, and your

I am thine, and thou art mine ; life is sweet and

echo ring.

If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by; Open the temple gates unto my love,

For we two have gotten leave, and once more will
Open them wide that she may enter in,

try.
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,
And all the pillars deck with garlands trim, Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
For to receive this saint with honor due,

It's we two, it's we two, happy side by side.
That cometh in to you.

Take a kiss from me, thy man ; now the song
With trembling steps, and humble reverence, begins :
She cometh in, before the Almighty's view : “All is made afresh for us, and the brave heart
Of her, ye virgins, learn obedience,

wins.
When so ye come into those holy places,
To humble your proud faces :

When the darker days come, and no sun will
Bring her up to the high altar, that she may

shine, The sacred ceremonies there partake,

Thou shalt dry my tears, lass, and I'll dry thine. The which do endless matrimony make;

It's we two, it's we two, while the world's away, And let the roaring organs loudly play

Sitting by the golden sheaves on our wedding day.

new.

* Saw.

JEAN INGELOW.

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Thou hast left the joyous feast,
And the mirth and wine have ceased
And now we set thee down before
The jealously unclosing door,
That the favored youth admits
Where the veiled virgin sits
In the bliss of maiden fear,
Waiting our soft tread to hear,
And the music's brisker din
At the bridegroom's entering in,
Entering in, a welcome guest,
To the chamber of his rest.

Her finger was so small, the ring
Would not stay on which they did bring,

It was too wide a peck ;

* Fair Mary, my treasure.

165

CHORUS OF MAIDENS.

HENRY HART MILMAN.

This have I done when God drew near
Now the jocund song is thine,

Among his own to choose.
Bride of David's kingly line ;
How thy dove-like bosom trembleth,

To hear, to heed, to wed,
And thy shrouded eye resembleth

And with thy lord depart
Violets, when the dews of eve

In tears that he, as soon as shed,
A moist and tremulous glitter leave !

Will let no longer smart.

To hear, to heed, to wed,
On the bashful sealed lid.

This while thou didst I smiled,
Close within the bride-veil hid,

For now it was not God who said,
Motionless thou sitt'st and mute ;

“Mother, give me thy child.”
Save that at the soft salute
Of each entering maiden friend,

O fond, O fool, and blind,
Thou dost rise and softly bend.

To God I gave with tears ;

But when a man like grace would find,
Hark! a brisker, merrier glee !

My soul put by her fears.
The door unfolds, t is he ! 't is he !

O fond, O fool, and blind,
Thus we lift our lamps to meet him,

God guards in happier spheres ;
Thus we touch our lutes to greet him.

That man will guard where he did bind
Thou shalt give a fonder meeting,

Is hope for unknown years.
Thou shalt give a tenderer greeting.

To hear, to heed, to wed,

Fair lot that maidens choose,

Thy mother's tenderest words are said,
MARRIAGE.

Thy face no more she views ;
Thy mother's lot, my dear,

She doth in naught accuse ;
THEN before All they stand, the holy vow

Her lot to bear, to nurse, to rear, ,
And ring of gold, no fond illusions now,

To love — and then to lose.
Bind her as his. Across the threshold led,

JEAN INGELOW.
And every tear kissed off as soon as sheil,
His house she enters,

there to be a light,
Shining within, when all without is night;
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding,

THE BANKS OF THE LEE.
Doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing,
Winning him back when mingling in the throng, O, The banks of the Lee, the banks of the Lee,
Back from a world we love, alas ! too long, And love in a cottage for Mary and me!
To fireside happiness, to hours of ease,

There's not in the land a lovelier tide,
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

And I'm sure that there's no one so fair as my bride.
How oft her eyes read his ; her gentle mind

She's modest and meek,
To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined ;

There 's a down on her cheek,
Still subject, ever on the watch to borrow

And her skin is as sleek
Mirth of his mirth and sorrow of his sorrow !

As a butterfly's wing ;
The soul of music slumbers in the shell,

Then her step would scarce show
Till waked and kindled by the master's spell,

On the fresh-fallen snow,
And feeling hearts — touch them but rightly And her whisper is low,

But as clear as the spring.
pour
A thousand melodies unheard before !

0, the banks of the Lee, the banks of the Lee,
And love in a cottage for Mary and me!
I know not how love is happy elsewhere,

I know not how any but lovers are there.
SEVEN TIMES SIX.

FROM

HUMAN LIFE.'

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SAMUEL ROGERS.

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They are growing so fast;
While the scent of the flowers
Must be hoarded for hours,
'T is poured in such showers

When my Mary goes past.

O, the banks of the Lee, the banks of the Lee,
And love in a cottage for Mary and me !
0, Mary for me, Mary for me,
And 't is little I'd sigh for the banks of the Lee!

THOMAS DAVIS.

HOME

see

ROBERT BURNS.

MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING.

A piece of nature that can have no flaw,

A new and certain sunrise every day;
She is a winsome wee thing,

But, if thou art to be another ray
She is a handsome wee thing,

About the Sun of Life, and art to live
She is a bonnie wee thing,

Free from all of thee that was fugitive,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

The debt of Love I will more fully pay,

Not downcast with the thought of thee so high,
I never saw a fairer,

But rather raised to be a nobler man, ,
I never lo’ed a dearer,

And more divine in my humanity,
And neist my heart I 'll wear her,

As knowing that the waiting eyes which scan
For fear my jewel tine.

My life are lighted by a purer being,

And ask meek, calm-browed deeds, with it agree-
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,

ing
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err ;

Joy's wreath drooped o'er mine eyes ; I could not
The warld's wrack we share o't,
The warstle and the care o't :

That sorrow in our happy world must be
Wi' her I'll blythely bear it,

Love's deepest spokesman and interpreter.
And think my lot divine.

But, as a mother feels her child first stir
Under her heart, so felt I instantly
Deep in my soul another bond to thee

Thrill with that life we saw depart from her ;
SONNETS.

O mother of our angel child ! twice dear!

Death knits as well as parts, and still, I wis, My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die; Her tender radiance shall infold us here, Albeit I ask no fairer life than this,

Even as the light, borne up by inward bliss, Whose numbering-clock is still thy gentle kiss,

Threads the void glooms of space without a fear, While Time and Peace with hands unlocked fly,

To print on farthest stars her pitying kiss. Yet care I not where in Eternity

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
We live and love, well knowing that there is
No backward step for those who feel the bliss
Of Faith as their most lofty yearnings high :
Love hath so purified my being's core,

ADAM TO EVE.
Meseems I scarcely should be startled, even,
To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone before ;

O FAIREST of creation, last and best Since, with thy love, this knowledge too was Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled given,

Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, Which each calm day doth strengthen more and Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet ! more,

How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost, That they who love are but one step from Heaven. Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote !

Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress I CANNOT think that thou shouldst pass away, The strict forbiddance, how to violate Whose life to mine is an eternal law,

The sacred fruit forbidden! Some cursed fraud

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