Beware of those who slyly pilch In many cunning ways; Beware of little lyres that filch From undisputed bays! Beware the tumbler’s beaded brim,

On Helen’€™s heart the day were n… But I may not adventure there: Here breast is guarded by a right, And she is true as fair. And though in happy days her eyes

NATURE and he went ever hand in… Across the hills and down the lone… They captured starry shells upon t… And lay enchanted by the musing ma… So She, who loved him for his lov…

The brook told the dove And the dove told me That Cicely’s bathing at the pool With other virgins three. The brook told the dove

Last night some yellow letters fel… From out a scrip I found by chanc… Among them was the silent ghost, The spirit of my first romance: And in a faint blue envelope

Tend me my birds, and bring again The brotherhood of woodland life, So shall I wear the seasons round A friend to need, a foe to strife; Keep me my heritage of lawn,

Shy maids have haunts of still del… The lover glades he never tells; And one is mine where mass the bri… And odoured chimes of foxglove-bel… A dewy, covert, silent place

If ever there was a Golden Game To brace the nerves, to cure repin… To put the Dumps to flight and sh… It’s Cricket when the sun is shin… Gentlemen, toss the foolscap by,

In summer, when the grass is thick… She shows me with her pencil how a… And often she is sweet enough to c… Where I cuddle up so closely when… In winter when the corn’s asleep,…

All work is over at the farm And men and maids are ripe for gle… Love slips among them sly and warm Or calls them to the chestnut-tree… As Colin looks askance at Jane

Bartholomew is very sweet, From sandy hair to rosy feet. Bartholomew is six months old, And dearer far than pearls or gold… Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,

My lass, when God to suffer sent me, no gifts he gave, but only lent me for gold, my breath,

WAIT but a little while— The bird will bring A heart in tune for melodies Unto the spring, Till he who ’s in the cedar there

I’m greedy by nature, and often in… Have lingered too long o’er the su… Accepting the jelly, ignoring the… Intent on receiving far more than… I worship the plover’s egg, tasty…

If you passed her in your city You would call her badly dressed, But the faded homespun covers Such a heart in such a breast! True, her rosy face is freckled