Not thrice your branching limes have blown
Since I beheld young Laurence dead.
O your sweet eyes, your low replies:
A great enchantress you may be ;
But there was that across his throat
Which you had hardly cared to see.

Lady Clara Vere de Vere,

When thus he met his mother's view, She had the passions of her kind,

She spake some certain truths of you. Indeed, I heard one bitter word

That scarce is fit for you to hear;

Her manners had not that repose

Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere

Lady Clara Vere de Vere,

There stands a spectre in your hall: The guilt of blood is at your door:

You changed a wholesome heart to gall You held your course without remorse, To make him trust his modest worth, And, last, you fixed a vacant stare,

And slew him with your noble birth.

Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere,

From yon blue heavens above us bent
The grand old gardener and his wife
Smile at the claims of long descent.
Howe'er it be, it seems to me,
'Tis only noble to be good.

Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood.

I know you, Clara Vere de Vere:
You pine among your halls and towers,
The languid light of your proud eyes
Is wearied of the rolling hours.
In glowing health, with boundless wealth,

But sickening of a vague disease,
You know so ill to deal with time,

You needs must play such pranks as these.

Clara, Clara Vere de Vere,

If Time be heavy on your hands,
Are there no beggars at your gate,
Nor any poor about your lands?
O! teach the orphan-boy to read,
Or teach the orphan-girl to sew,
Pray Heaven for a human heart,
And let the foolish yeoman go.

THE MAY QUEEN.

I.

You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear;

To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year;

Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day;

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

II.

There's many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine;

There's Margaret and Mary, there's Kate and Caroline:

But none so fair as little Alice in all the land, they

say:

So I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

III.

I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake,

If you do not call me loud when the day begins to

break:

But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

IV.

As I came up the valley, whom think ye should I see, But Robin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazeltree?

He thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave him yesterday,

But I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

V.

He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all in white,

And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash of light.

They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what they say,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

VI.

They say he's dying all for love, but that can never

be:

They say his heart is breaking, mother-what is that to me?

There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me any summer day,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 6

VOL. I.

VII.

Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, And you'll be there, too, mother, to see me made the Queen:

For the shepherd lads on every side 'ill come from far away,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

VIII.

The honeysuckle round the porch has woven its wavy bowers,

And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers;

And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

IX.

The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow grass,

And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass;

There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day,

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

X.

All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and

still,

And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the

hill,

And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

XI.

you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear,

To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year:

To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to he Queen o' the May.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

I.

IF you're waking call me early, call me early, mother dear,

For I would see the sun rise upon the glad New

year.

It is the last New-year that I shall ever see,

Then you may lay me low i' the mould, and think no more of me.

II.

To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of mind;

And the New-year's coming up, mother, but I shall

never see

The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the

tree.

III.

Last May we made a crown of flowers: we had a

merry day;

Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May;