r rains
Image all their roof of leaves,
Where the pine its garland weaves
Of sapless green, and ivy dun,
Round stems that never kiss the sun.
Where the lawns and pastures be
And the sandhills of the sea,
Where the melting hoar-frost wets
The daisy star that never sets,
And wind-flowers and violets
Which yet join not scent to hue
Crown the pale year weak and new:
When the night is left behind
In the deep east, dim and blind,
And the blue moon is over us,
And the multitudinous
Billows murmur at our feet,
Where the earth and ocean meet
And all things seem only one
In the universal sun.

P. B. SHELLEY.

_TO DAFFODILS._

FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet, the early-rising sun
Has not attained its noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hastening day
Has run
But to the even song;
And having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you or any thing.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of morning's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.

ROBERT HERRICK.

_CONSTANCY._

LAY a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal yew;
Maidens willow branches bear;
Say, _I died true_.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth!

SAMUEL FLETCHER.

MOURN, ilka grove the cushat kens!
Ye haz'lly shaws and briery dens!
Ye burnies, wimplin down your glens,
Wi' toddlin din,
Or foaming strang, wi' hasty stens,
Frae lin to lin.

Mourn little harebells o'er the lee;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see;
Ye woodbines hanging bonnilie,
In scented bow'rs;
Ye roses on your thorny tree.
The first o' flow'rs.

At dawn, when ev'ry grassy blade
Droops with a diamond at his head,
At ev'n, when beans their fragrance shed,
I' th' rustling gale,
Ye maukins whiddin thro' the glade,
Come join my wail.

Mourn, spring, thou darling of the year;
Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear:
Thou, simmer, while each corny spea