A DAISY CHAIN.

HE white rose decks the breast of May,
The red rose smiles in June,

Yet autumn chills and winter kills

And leaves their stems alone;

Ah, swiftly dies the garden's pride

Whose sleep no waking knows,—

But my love she is the daisy

That all the long year grows.

The early woods are gay with green,
The fields are prankt with gold,
But fair must fade and green be greyed
Before the year is old;

The blue-bell hangs her shining head,

No more the oxslip blows,

But my love she is the daisy

That all the long year grows.

Still deck, wild woods, your mantle green,
All meads bright jewels wear,

Let showers of spring fresh violets bring
And sweetness load the air;

Whilst summer boasts her roses red

And March her scented snows,—

My love be still the daisy,

And my

heart whereon she grows.

H. CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL.

A WILD WOOD SPELL.

OME to the woods, Medora,

Come to the woods with me;

The leaves are green, the summer sheen
Is on the linden tree.

Up in the woods, Medora,
The thrushes warble free;

Around, above, they sing of love,

So let me sing to thee!

On the low thorn, Medora,

The finch is fair to see,

A jewel bright, a heart's delight

Ah! so art thou to me.

From the dark pines, Medora,

There flows a balmy sea;

The air's soft kiss is heavenly bliss

How sweet art thou to me!

Through the wood-moss, Medora,
The emerald lizards flee,

Away, away,—they will not stay;
Oh, flee not thus from me!

Come to the woods, Medora,

Come to the shade with me;

The roses bloom in that sweet gloom

So bloom, dear rose, for me!

EARL OF SOUTHESK.

F

REINE D'AMOUR.

LOSE as the stars along the sky,
The flowers were in the mead,
The purple heart, and golden eye,
And crimson-flaming weed :-

And each one sigh'd as I went by,
And touch'd my garinent green,
And bade me wear her on my heart
And take her for my Queen
Of Love,-

And take her for my Queen.

And one in virgin white was drest
With lowly gracious head;
And one unveil'd a burning breast
With Love's own ardour red;
All rainbow bright, with laughter light,
They flicker'd o'er the green,

Each whispering I should pluck her there
And take her for my Queen
Of Love,-

And take her for my Queen.