PANSIE. AME, on a Sabbath noon, my sweet, The grass grew proud beneath her feet, She said, "We meet no angels now," And soft lights streamed upon her; What, meet no angels, Pansie? Oh sweet brown hat, brown hair, brown eyes, Then what, said I? gallant replies THOMAS ASHE. B EVE Y UD and leaflet, opening slowly, Woo'd with tears by winds of Spring, Now, of June persuaded wholly, Perfumes, flow'rs, and shadows bring. Evey, in the linden-alley, All alone I met to-day, Tripping to the sunny valley Spread across with new-mown hay. Brown her soft curls, sunbeam-sainted, Eye and fringe with one soft brush. Through the leaves a careless comer, Can this broad hat, fasten'd under Half too changed to speak I thought her, Few her words; yet, like a sister, Shadows, which are not of sadness, Touch her eyes, and brow above. As pale wild roses dream of redness, Dreams her innocent heart of love. WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. SERENADE. I. LEEP, lady fair! Oh but thy couch should be The fleeciest cloudlet of the summer air, I keep warm in my true breast, Dream, lady sweet! II. The moon and planets bright Now thread thy slumbers with unsounding feet, Now drench thy fancies with unshaped delight: As my spirit fain would steep Thine, when only half asleep, This night, this night! |