Shy maids have haunts of still del… The lover glades he never tells; And one is mine where mass the bri… And odoured chimes of foxglove-bel… A dewy, covert, silent place

Bartholomew is very sweet, From sandy hair to rosy feet. Bartholomew is six months old, And dearer far than pearls or gold… Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,

All work is over at the farm And men and maids are ripe for gle… Love slips among them sly and warm Or calls them to the chestnut-tree… As Colin looks askance at Jane

With heart disposed to memory, let… Near this monarch and this minstre… Now that Dian leans so lovely fro… Illusively brought near by seeming… In yon illustrious summit sways th…

Excuse me, Sweetheart, if I smear… With wisdom learnt from ancient te… Now winter time once more is here, This grease upon your lengthy feat… Behaving thus, your loyal friend

Have you seen the golfers airy Prancing forth to their vagary, Just as frisky in their gaiters As a flock of Grecian Satyrs, Looking everything heroic,

On Helen’€™s heart the day were n… But I may not adventure there: Here breast is guarded by a right, And she is true as fair. And though in happy days her eyes

When red-nosed Winter takes the r… An icicle his walking-stick, When frost is on the woodman’s loa… And snow is falling fast and thick… Come, lusty youth and sapless eld,

This peach is pink with such a pin… As suits the peach divinely; The cunning colour rarely spread Fades to the yellow finely; But where to spy the truest pink

Beware of those who slyly pilch In many cunning ways; Beware of little lyres that filch From undisputed bays! Beware the tumbler’s beaded brim,

In summer, when the grass is thick… She shows me with her pencil how a… And often she is sweet enough to c… Where I cuddle up so closely when… In winter when the corn’s asleep,…

The brook told the dove And the dove told me That Cicely’s bathing at the pool With other virgins three. The brook told the dove

THOUGH singing but the shy and… Untrod by multitudes of feet, Songs bounded by the brook and whe… I have not failed in this, The only lure my woodland note,

GOD with His million cares Went to the left or right, Leaving our world; and the day Grew night. Back from a sphere He came