ON A GIRDLE.

THAT which her slender waste confin'd,
Shall now my joyful temples bind;
No monarch but wou'd give his crown,
His arms might do what this has done.

It was my heav'ns extreamest spheare,
The pale which held that lovely dear;
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
Did all within this circle move.

A narrow compass, and yet there
Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair:
Give me but what this riban bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round.

WALLER.

O Innocence! white-bosom'd purity!
Sweet essence of the heart and its best hopes!
Whose breath is of the heavens-whose path
is peace;

Whose presence fills all places with a light;
Whose loss makes dark the sun, and poisons

time.

HORNE.

THE PRIMROSE.

Ask me why I send you here
This firstling of the Infant year;
Ask me why I send to you

This primrose all bepearl'd with dew?

I straight will whisper in your ears,
The sweets of love are washt with tears:
Ask me why this flow'r doth shew
So yellow, green, and sickly too;
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break?
I must tell you, these discover

What doubts and fears are in a lover.

CAREW.

LOVE ETERNAL.

Ir love be holy, if that mystery
Of co-united hearts be sacrament;
If the unbounded Goodness have infus'd
A sacred ardour of a mutual love

Into our species; if those amorous joys, Those sweets of life, those comforts even in death,

Spring from a cause above our reason's reach;

If that clear flame deduce its heat from Heaven,

"Tis, like its cause, eternal; always one, As is th' instiller of divinest love,

Unchang'd by time, immortal, maugre death.

MARSTON.

WAKE, oh, wake!—the morning star
Hath ceased to grace his glittering car:
Slowly the redd'ning clouds unfold,
And frequent streaks of living gold
Announce the lord of day.

The light breeze wafts perfume on high,
Less sweet alone than thy sweet sigh!-
The flower with fresher tints is glowing,
The fount with clearer crystal flowing.
Oh come! oh come!

Hours like this a charm impart
That wins the eye but not the heart,
While Love is still away!

Wake, oh, wake!-through ev'ry grove
Is heard the matin lay of love;
-And shall a dearer love be vain

To bid thee burst dull slumber's chain,
And spurn at slow delay?

Though morning glow with tints divine
I'd change her brightest blush for thine!
And deem thine eye from sleep awaking,
Outshone the sun through darkness breaking.
Oh come! oh come!

Hours like this are quickly fled,

But thy fond smile a joy can shed
Which melts not thus away!

DALE.

HAPPINESS IN THE GOLDEN

AGE.

ALL things were common then; Earth yielded all her fruits to all her sons, And God by all was honour'd, loved, adored, The blooming maiden sweetly own'd her love

Without a blush; while the enamour'd swain With ardour urged his suit, nor knew, nor thought,

Nor dreamt he of deceiving.

T. B. SMITH.