THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. OME live with me and be my love, And we will sit upon the rocks, And I will make thee beds of roses, Embroider'd o'er with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool, The Passionate Shepherd to His Love. 77 A belt of straw and ivy-buds, With coral clasps and amber studs. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. FLOWERS. FLOWERS Image forth the boundless love God bears his children all, Which ever droppeth from above, Upon the great and small : Each blossom that adorns our path, So joyful and so fair, Is but a drop of love divine, That fell and flourished there. ILIMON. COMMON BRAMBLE. THOUGH Woodbines flaunt and roses grow Thou need'st not be ashamed to show For dull the eye, the heart as dull, That cannot feel how fair, Amid all beauty, beautiful, Thy tender blossoms are. E. ELLIOTT. FLOWERS. THANK God! when forth from Eden, The weeping pair were driven, That unto earth, though cursed with thorns The little flower was given. That Eve, when looking downward, To face her God afraid, Beheld the scented violet, The primrose in the shade. MARY HOWITT. THE HAREBELL. ITH drooping bells of clearest blue, The azure butterflies that flew, Where on the heath thy blossoms grew So lightly trembling. Where feathery fern, and golden broom, Increase the sand-rock cavern's gloom, I've seen thee tangled, 'Mid tufts of purple heather bloom, By vain Arachne's treacherous loom, With dew-drops spangled. 'Mid ruins tumbling to decay, Thy flowers their heavenly hues display, Still freshly springing Where pride and pomp have pass'd away, On mossy tomb and turret grey, Like friendship clinging. When glow-worm lamps illume the scene, And silvery daisies dot the green, Thy flowers revealing; Perchance to soothe the fairy-queen, With faint sweet tones, on night serene, Thy soft bells pealing. But most I love thine azure braid, Stealing beneath the hedgerow shade, Thou art the flow'r of memory And led by kindred thought will flee, The path she measures. Beneath autumnal breezes bleak, I've seen thee bending; Pale as the pale blue veins that streak Consumption's thin transparent cheek, With death hues blending. |