sprang from stair to stair of fame,
And you've a riband on your coat,
And you've a title to your name;
But have you yet a star to shine
Above your bed, as I o'er mine?

TWO DUETS

_From "Arion," an unpublished Masque_

I

_He._ Aglai-a! Aglai-a!
Sweet, awaken and be glad.
_She._ Who is this that calls Aglaia?
Is it thou, my dearest lad?
_He._ 'Tis Arion, 'tis Arion,
Who calls thee from sleep--
From slumber who bids thee
To follow and number
His kids and his sheep.
_She._ Nay, leave to entreat me!
If mother should spy on
Us twain, she would beat me.
_He._ Then come, my love, come!
And hide with Arion
Where green woods are dumb!

_She._ Ar-i-on! Ar-i-on!
Closer, list! I am afraid!

_He._ Whisper, then, thy love Arion,
From thy window, lily maid.

_She._ Yet Aglaia, yet Aglaia
Hath heard them debate
Of wooing repenting--
"Who trust to undoing,
Lament them too late."

_He._ Nay, nay, when I woo thee,
Thy mother might spy on
All harm I shall do thee.

_She._ I come, then--I come!
To follow Arion
Where green woods be dumb.

SONG

Sparrow of Love, so sharp to peck,
Arrow of Love--I bare my neck
Down to the bosom. See, no fleck

Of blood! I have never a wound; I go
Forth to the greenwood. Yet, heigh-ho!
What 'neath my girdle flutters so?

'Tis not a bird, and yet hath wings,
'Tis not an arrow, yet it stings;
While in the wound it nests and sings--
Heigh-ho!

_He._ Of Arion, of Arion
That wound thou shalt learn;
What nothings 'tis made of,
And soft pretty soothings
In shade of the fern.

_She._ When maids have a mind to,
Man's word they rely on,
Old warning are blind to--
I come, then--I come
To walk with Arion
Where green woods are dumb!

II

_He._ Dear my love, and O my love,
And O my love so lately!
Did we wander yonder grove
And sit awhile sedately?
For either you did there conclude
To do at length as I did,
Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude,
And troth's an oath derided.

_She._ Yea, my love--and nay, my love--
And ask me not to tell, love,
While I delay'd an