I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

AMIENS'S SONG.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.

HARK! HARK! THE LARK !
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary buds begin

To ope their golden eyes; With everything that pretty bin;

My lady sweet, arise.

UNDER THE GREENWOOD-TREE.

Under the greenwood-tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

227

SONGS.

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

THE SABBATH OF THE SOUL.

MRS. ANNA L. BARBAULD.

Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,

Of earth and folly born; Ye shall not dim the light that streams

From this celestial morn.

To-morrow will be time enough

To feel your harsh control; Ye shall not violate, this day, The Sabbath of

my

soul.

Sleep, sleep forever, guilty thoughts;

Let fires of vengeance die;
And, purged from sin, may I behold

A God of purity!

HERE the most dainty paradise on ground

Itself doth offer to his sober eye,
In which all pleasures plenteously abound,

And none does others' happiness envy;
The painted flowers, the trees upshooting

high,
The dales for shade, the hills for breathing

space,
The trembling groves, the crystal running by,

And that which all fair works doth most aggrace,
The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no placr.

One would have thought (so cunningly the rude

And scorned parts were mingled with the fine) That nature had for wantonness ensued

Art, and that art at nature did repine;
So striving each the other to undermine,
Each did the other's work more beautify;
So differing both in wills, agreed in fine:

So all agreed through sweet diversity,
This garden to adorn with all variety.

Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound,

Of all that might delight a dainty ear, Such as at once might not on living ground,

Save in this paradise be heard elsewhere:

Right hard it was for wight which did it hear,
To read what manner music that might be:
For all that pleasing is to living ear,

Was there consorted in one harmony;
Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.

The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade,

Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet; The angelical soft trembling voices made

To the instruments divine respondence meet;

The silver sounding instruments did meet
With the buse murmur of the water's fall:
The water's fall with difference discreet,

Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call:
The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.