Unselfish love, which would true aims fulfil,
Must be what men call mean, must make unask'd
The first advances, and a cold response,
Rebuffs and misconceptions overlook,
To prosecute its end, which is to give,
For love's best reasons, unrequited, all
Love's heart and life's devotion.

This confess'd,
Some brief indulgence let the heart enjoy—
From thought set free, from all the weary weight
Of those great ends whereto, since early days
Elected, souls must strive and, striving, see
New fields of labour opening far beyond

Folds of flesh henceforth enwind thee,
Earthly veils thy form conceal,
Five restricted senses bind thee—
Dimly wails our vain appeal.

Wings of those that loved and knew thee
Round about thy house may throng,
But the charm of earth which drew thee
Holds thee by a spell too strong.

Soul of sweetness, thus forsaking
True life's light and love divine,
When the witch-spell fails, awaking—
Light and life and love be thine.

So the walls of sense entomb thee,
So we leave thee—born of men;

Upon the heights they rested; looking down,
" What shuddering depths, " she said, " thank God, afar! "
But he: " 'Twas thence we climbed to reach the crown;
O Love, I bless what brought us where we are. "

We marched out of Gloucester the 19th of June ,
Colours being flying, and soldiers in full bloom;
Little did I think that my true love was so near,
My heart was stole away by Captain Barnard's Grenadier .

My father and my mother confin'd me in a room,
I jump'd out of the window, and I went into the town;
It was my good fortune to meet with my dearest dear,
My heart was stole away by Captain Barnard's Grenadier .

My love goes to the Captain, so valiant and so bold,
He is clothed all in scarlet, and laced round with gold;

Three lilies grew in a garden
That looked upon the sea;
These lilies white, they had a right
To be beloved of me.
I ask no man a pardon
That, all within my garden,
I loved those lilies three.

Three men came in my garden,
Three men from o'er the sea;
One black as night, one gold-bedight,
And one that looked at me,
And praised my growing garden:
I ask my God for pardon,
I loved him of the three.

Strange things come out of the sea:
I loved him well, ah me!
There came a wind that blights the kind

A Christmas Carroll — 1655

Must lewes come in
And is it not a sin?
To goe about
To cast Christ out?
I will not say
That This the Day
With selebration we adorn

Lovely wings of gold and green
Flit about the sounds I hear.
On my window when I lean
To the shadows cool and clear.
. . . . .

Roaming, I am listening still,
Bending, listening overlong,
In my soul a steadier will,
In my heart a newer song.

OM ONA ! I love thee, thou land of my birth!
Tho' long I have roam'd the world's wilderness o'er,
No spot have I found on the fair face of earth
Half so dear as thy own rocky, sea-beaten shore.

Tho' the world hath not rung with the deeds of thy fame,
Nor history's tablets thy glories have borne,
Yet gems of bright genius, unknown as thy name,
And flowers of fair virtue thy valleys adorn;

Where Truth and pure Piety, join'd hand in hand —
Sweet cherubic sisters, — have made their abode,

A LONG the road in the month of June,
With all the roses in their prime.
The laurel blooms and hears the tune
Of all the birds, for it is their time
Of fullest, fairest singing.

And no man meets awake, a-dream,
A daintier pink on lady's cheek
Than paints those clustered cups that seem
Like nuns demure and over-meek,
So close together clinging.

Some flowers are for city walks,
And some to love's light lattice climb;
And some are noisome on their stalks,
While others scent the summertime
In quiet garden closes.

Upon a blessed shower from heaven after a drowth

When the eternall hand of love
Opens it self above
In any showre of temprall good
What should be understood
But scripture thence
Of true Obedience.
And that vild Clay
Should Powres Obey
And in a thankfullnes for what is guiven
Exalt the Doners prayse, look up to heaven.