Through green leaves lift their walls of gray,
And many a rock which steeply lowers,
And noble arch in proud decay,

Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers;

But one thing want these banks of Rhine-Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!

I send the lilies given to me;
Though long before thy hand they touch,
I know that they must wither'd be,
But yet reject them not as such;
For I have cherish'd them as dear,
Because they yet may meet thine eye,
And guide thy soul to mine ev'n here,
When thou behold'st them drooping nigh,
And know'st them gather'd by the Rhine,
And offer'd from my heart to thine!

The river nobly foams and flows,
The charm of this enchanted ground,
And all its thousand turns disclose
Some fresher beauty varying round:
The haughtiest breast its wish might bound
Through life to dwell delighted here;

Nor could on earth a spot be found
To nature and to me so dear,

Could thy dear eyes in following mine

Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine!

GEORGE, LORD BYRON.

XCI

HYMENEAL SONG

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;

Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, first-born child of Ver,
Merry spring-time's harbinger,
With her bells dim ;

Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
Larks'-heels trim;

All dear Nature's children sweet,
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
Blessing their sense!

Not an angel of the air,

Bird melodious or bird fair,

The

Be absent hence!

crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor

The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chattering pie,

May on our bride-house perch or sing,

Or with them any discord bring,

But from it fly!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

CHIVALRIC LOVE

Love rules the camp, the court, the grove,
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

I vow'd unvarying faith, and she

SCOTT.

To whom in full I pay that vow,

Rewards me with variety

Which men who change can never know.

COVENTRY PATMORE.