To Pan doth white limbed Daphnis offer here
(He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's flute)
His reeds of many a stop, his barbed spear,
And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of fruit.

Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon
Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon:
Thine, Pythian Paean, that dark-foliaged bay;
With such thy Delphian crags thy front array.
This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine,
Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine.

Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal,
For bare existence harrowing yonder mere,
To this our Lady slay at even-fall
That holy fish, which, since it hath no peer
For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about here
Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down
Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear
To find them empty

The lad I was I longer now
Nor am nor shall be evermore.
Spring's lovely blossoms from my brow
Have shed their petals on the floor.
Thou, Love, hast been my lord, thy shrine
Above all gods' best served by me.
Dear Love, could life again be mine
How bettered should that service be!

Roses.

Oft in the olden days she gave me sweet-smelling roses;
One hath but lately bloomed o'er the beloved one's grave.

Interpretation of Dreams.

Yesterday I in a dream saw her whom I love at the window;
What saw I when awake? only the flowers she gave.
But in my dreaming to-day, bright flow'rs I saw by the window;
Surely to-day will ere long shew me the darling herself!

Love's Arrow.

Love! thine arrow of might my heart hath mortally stricken;
Now in Elysian realms wake I, already in bliss!

Exchange.

Keenly the swift breeze blew, and the flow'rs were scattered in fragments,
But on the low-bent stalk rested a butterfly still!

May.

Blossoms and buds how bright! leaves circle the trees like a " glory " ;
Heav'n, o'erclouded remain! Earth hath a gleam of her own.

A Night in March.

Hear! how roareth the storm and the rain-swoln stream in the darkness!
Feeling both awful and sweet! Beautiful Spring, thou art near!