Heavenly lilies with lockerand toppis white Whereof the beeis wrought their honey sweet. GAWAIN DOUGLAS, Bishop of Dunkeld. Burmekyn, barbican; pers, light blue; burnet, brownish; gules, scarlet; fauchcolour, fawn; celestial gre, sky-blue; haw-waly, dark-waved; lite, little; flowerdamas, damask rose rose-knobbis tetand, rose-buds peeping; kyth, show; locherand, curling; redemite, crowned; croppis, heads. ARRANGEMENTS OF A BOUQUET. Here damask roses, white and red, Out of my lap first take I, Which still shall run along the thread Among these roses in a row, Next place I pinks in plenty, These double pansies then for show, The pretty pansy then I'll tie Like stones some chain enchasing; And next to them, their near ally, The curious choice clove July flower, Whose sundry colors of one kind, A course of cowslips then I'll stick, Then with these marigolds I'll make · Whose sweets shall help their smelling. The lily and the fleur-de-lis, For that I them do only prize, They are but poor in scenting; The daffodil most dainty is," To match with these in meetness; These in their natures only are Sweet-williams, campions, sops-in-wine, Thus have I made this wreath of mine, MICHAEL DRAYTON, 1563-1631. HEART'S-EASE. I saw, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, At a fair vestal throned in the west. And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon. In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid, Will make a man or woman madly dote W. SHAKSPEARE, 1564-1616. THE GARLAND. THE GARLAND. The pride of every grove I chose, The flowers she wore along the day; And every nymph and shepherd said, That eye dropp'd sense distinct and clear, Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek. Dissembling what I knew too well, "My love, my life," said I, "explain This change of humor; pr'ythee tell : That falling tear-what does it mean?" She sigh'd; she smiled: and to the flowers Ah me! the blooming pride of May, At dawn poor Stella danced and sung, I saw and kiss'd her in her shroud. |