flying;
And this same flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best, which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse and worst
Times will succeed the former.

--Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

ROBERT HERRICK.

_SONG OF MAY MORNING._

NOW the bright morning-star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

MILTON.

AMONG the myrtles as I walk'd,
Love and my Sight thus intertalk'd:
Tell me, said I, in deep distress,
Where I may find my Shepherdess?
--Thou Fool, said Love, know'st thou not this?
In everything that's sweet she is.
In yon'd Carnation go and seek,
There thou shalt find her lips and cheek;
In that enamell'd Pansy by,
There thou shalt have her curious eye;
In bloom of Peach and Rose's bud
There waves the streamer of her blood.
--'Tis true, said I; and thereupon
I went to pluck them one by one,
To make of parts an union;
But on a sudden all were gone.
At which I stopp'd; said Love, these be
The true resemblance of Thee;
For as these Flowers, thy joys must die;
And in the turning of an eye;
And all thy hopes of her must wither,
Like those short sweets here knit together.

ROBERT HERRICK.

_FRAGMENT, IN WITHERSPOON'S_

_COLLECTION OF SCOTCH SONGS._

TUNE--"_Hughie Graham"_

"O GIN my love were yon red rose,
"That grows upon the castle wa';
"And I mysel' a drap o' dew,
"Into her bonnie breast to fa'!

"Oh, there beyond expression blest,
"I'd feast on beauty a' the night;
"Seal'd on her silk-waft faulds to rest,
"Till fley'd awa by Phoebus' light."

O were my