* THE LOVER *

Under the silver thatch, where dwells my love,

About her dormer window, in the straw,

The sparrows build, and with their morning talk

Often awaken her.

And by the lattice climbs a crimson rose,

Who, if he could but see my dinky dear,

Before her loveliness, so wonderful,

Would pale with jealousy.

When the first glow of honeysuckle dawn

Cuddles her cottage in the dayspring light,

I pass upon my woodland road to work

And whistle as I come.

And if she hear me and twinkle out of bed

To wave a kiss, then all my toil goes well;

But if she heed me not, for weariness,

How long the working day!