A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

POBliS OJ' IJU.GUIAT10lr .A1fD Pi.lfCT. 117

Of\ on the dr.ppled turf' at eue

I Bit and play with aimilea,

Looee typea of thinga through all depN,

T!iougbta of thy raising:

And many a fond and idle name

I give to thee, for praise or blame,

As ill the humour of the game,

While I &lfl gazing.

A nun demure of lowly port ;

Ot-eprightlymaideu of Love's court.,

In tby eimplieity the aport

or all temptation• ;

A queen in crown of ntbiea dreat;

A etarveling in a acADo/ veat ;

Are all. aa aeeme to autt thee beat,

Thy appell~tioDB.

A little cyclops, with one eye
Stuing, to threaten and deCf,
That thought comes next.-aud inat4ntly
The freak is over,
The ebape will vanish, IWd behold
A silnr shield with boaa of gold,
That spreada itaeff, some fairy bold
In fight to cover!

I eee tbee glittering from afar -
And then thou art a pretty etar;
Not quite eo fair as nu10y are
In heaven above thee I
Y et like a. star, with glittering crest,
&Jf-poiaed in air thou seem' at. to rest ;-
May p eace come never to his nest
Who sbu.U :reprove thee I

Bright FlotDer I for by that name at last,
When all my r everies are past,
I call thee, and to that cle,.ve fast,
Sweet silent crenture!
Tibat breath'st with rue in sun and ~lr,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a abare
Of thy meek nature J
W ORDBWOB.TH.