...from the soul doth rise, Doth ask a drink divine, But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a chance* that there It could not wither'd be: But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back...

...ask a drink divine ; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving...itself, but thee. SONG. [From " The Silent Woman. "J STILL to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powder'd, still...

...a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. " I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving...grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee." II. " O do not wanton with those eyes, Lest 1 be sick with seeing ; Nor cast them down, but let them...

...a drink divine : But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. " I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered he. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me : Since when, it grows and smells,...

...Jove's neetar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath, Not so much honoring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered bee. But thou thereon did'st onely breath, And sent'st it backe to mee : Since when it growes, and...

...Jove's neetar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath, Not so much honoring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not withered bee. But thou thereon did'st onely breath, And sent'st it backe to mee : Since when it growes, and...

...giving It a hope that there It could not wither'd be ; But thou thereon did only breathe, And gent it back to me . Since when it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee." Literature has made the language of flowers too well known amongst us, to revert to the use of the...

...loved, who has not felt the truth of Ben Jonson's beautiful conceit of— " I sent thee late a rosie wreath, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there It could not wither'd bee. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to mee : Since when it growes,...

..." I sent thee late a rosie wreath, It could not wither'd bee. But thou thereon didst only breathe, Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that there And sent'st it back to mee : Since when it growes, and smells, I sweare, Not of itselfe, but thee !"...

...late, a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee, i As giving it a hope that there It could not wither'd be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st...and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. SONG OP NISHT. BREAK, Phant'sie, from thy cave And spread thy purple wings ; Now all thy figures are allow'd,...